


Tainted Salvation

by CKDAVENPORT



Category: Cobra Kai, Karate Kid (Movies)
Genre: Chapter 1:, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Sadism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 50,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKDAVENPORT/pseuds/CKDAVENPORT
Summary: What happens when a broken woman's desperation, falls prey to love and the corruption of a billionaire.
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

His stature as a glorified Vietnam vet with all the trimmings, and his faithful squadron of rattled buddies, was all Uncle Frank cared about and much less spoke about, even as that last bit of breath filtered through his lungs. Oxygen held typically on reserve for the likes of one’s beloved wife or niece for that matter, was instead preoccupied with tales of valor and victory against the Vietcong told a thousand times over. It wasn’t so much that Frank felt bored of his adopted niece Claudia or his charming wife Janet, that he chose to remain fixated on the past. Vietnam in all its madness, was the only place in time, where he felt somehow vital and important. In Vietnam amongst compatriots he had a purpose, honor and a strong sense of pride in his actions. At home on the other hand, plagued with trauma, agonizing night terrors and constant pangs of grief, he failed to see any task to it’s fruition and ultimately, felt worthless. The only time he’d really crack a smile or seem a touch jovial, was when his war pal John Kreese; a burly blonde running a Karate dojo in the Valley came around to knock back a few cold ones or the occasional call would come in from an entity he consistently referred to as Quicksilver. Now Kreese was always hard to read and often tough to swallow, like that blackened crust Frank’s wife passed off as hardy bacon every morning. Kreese could make make heaven burst into flames, hell freeze over, and talking to him was like talking to a brick wall, but he was good to Frank and that’s all that seemed to matter. Quicksilver however, felt more like a mythical being than an ordinary man and willful ex-soldier. So much of Quicksilver was a mystery to Claudia, that she often filled her head with fantastical notions of what he looked like, what he sounded like and failed to believe she’d ever come to meet his acquintance, but Frank was always hopeful. At every given chance, Frank claimed that ole’ Quicksilver was endearing, loyal in his own way and when the conversation turned towards the macabre as it usually did with Frank, he’d insist that if tragedy were to strike, she’d find generosity at Silver’s doorstep. 

Unreal as it may seem, a few months shy of his forty-seventh birthday, a history of one too many Marlboros brought up a merciless disease that eventually claimed Frank’s life, leaving a newly laid off Claudia, with the inevitable task of seeking out Quicksilver’s supposed benevolence. Only truth be told, the god like, heard but never seen “Quicksilver”, was really Terry Silver, a mortal who hit it big in the world of nuclear waste disposal and lived in a massive yet isolated mansion in the Hollywood Hills. Sure the name Terry Silver, made him seem more real and less like some deity, it still held the flair of a superhero alias and that was downright comical. It felt absolutely ridiculous to say it out loud, and tickled her insides to the point of torment, but Claudia was clinging to her last dime. The Unemployment Department had unfortunately sent their very last check a year prior, Frank’s veteran’s pension was nearly diminished due to astronomical mortgage payments, and Janet, bless her heart, had taken a double shift at the drugstore just to make enough money for at least a month’s worth of groceries. Destitution was knocking upon the proverbial door, and Silver was a kind of last hope: a saving grace if you will, so there wasn’t much room to pass judgement on his given name. Yes Claudia was desperate, but she certainly wasn’t a moron. If she was hard on for cash, poking fun at a possible source or benefactor, was no way to go about things; in fact it was bad for karma. 

Holding back whatever humorous thought or feeling raged on in her head, Claudia shuffled out of bed like a bat out of hell to face the dreaded day, and that sorry mess of mismatched hangers. If anyone came looking for any indication of a woman on the verge of mental and emotional collapse, all they had to do was peer into that doorless closet. As if being naturally edgy and currently imbalanced wasn’t enough for her portfolio of madness, anxiety over what to wear just had to make the cut. Every outfit hanging there, either conjured up some vicious memory of waitressing at that awful dive or seemed intensely inappropriate for a meeting with a member of the elite. Squeezing what was basically a petty handout or even a possible job from someone she barely knew was truly shameful enough, there was no need to look cheap while doing it.

Great...finding nothing remotely befitting of the scenario, meant borrowing from Janet and that wasn’t pretty. Sitting through a wardrobe that consisted mainly of high waisted jeans, animal print sweaters and velour tracksuits, pained her, but the idea of making a horrid first impression because she looked like a tramp, seemed far worse. After nearly thirty coma inducing outfits and several tense lip bites, she found a fateful winner, only it wasn’t what she expected. Pushed deep into meticulously clean closet space was that black skirt suit. Janet had worn the very suit to Frank’s funeral and she’d sworn repeatedly that she’d eventually donate the thing, but Claudia knew better. Janet was a habitual hoarder and if the item in question, served as a kind of memento of Frank, she’d be keen on preserving it for as long as possible.

Pulling it on her person and letting that coarse fabric collide with her toned flesh, felt strange, saddening even. It set off wild flashbacks in her mind like a sensitive security alarm at the first sign of smoke. Images of Frank’s crippling last days and Janet’s breakdown during that traditional Scottish service, gnawed at her innards, but all she could do was drown out the pain with a couple of Rolaids, and be on her merry way.

Paying Silver a visit to in a sense grovel was rather embarrassing, it would be an attempt at damage control. It would be her way of setting this derailed train she called life, back on course and she couldn’t give just it all up. It was all or nothing now.


	2. Chapter 2

The 79’ Mustang...a birthday hand-me-down from Frank. Of course it was a sweet, thoughtful gift, but it wasn’t some great prize. Perhaps upon initial purchase it was a considerable treasure, but now it looked like and felt like a piece of junk. Probably Kelley Blue Book worthless, if one was being honest. It couldn’t hold a candle to its former 60′s model in curb appeal, but it got to point A and B just fine and failed to cost a fortune on gas. It served its purpose well enough, but it was an ugly bit of machinery. Silver was probably up to his teeth in sleek luxury cars. Aston Martins, a McLaren, a Lambo, a Ferrari, he’d surely had them all and while she wasn’t sure he was that shallow, Claudia figured he’d find her little vehicle laughable or amusing at the very least. If he were to catch a glimpse, it would probably be hazardous to her cause and that’s why she chose to hide it. A block away for the sake of shame, it was nothing right? Wrong. In four inch pumps and an outfit that was tight in all the wrong places, getting to Silver’s place was like trekking up Everest, and boy was it worth it. The view of LA was spectacular and the house, well that was on a whole other spectrum. This was an Aztec temple, not just by appearance alone, but size. The thing was enormous, gorgeous and all the more intimidating to Claudia. Wiping the drool from plump lips and brushing back the now mangled bits of hair from her eyes; erasing any sign of wear and tear, Claudia inched forward to ring the bell. The bell...the bell took her on a brief trip to the symphony. It was just as majestic as the house, and if that’s wasn’t enough to brag, it was promptly serviced by a tall, gangly man in his fifties...well maybe. Jesus, Albert, the stiff upper lip from Batman, wasn’t even that attentive. Silver really had it made.

“Hello, can I help you?” He called out, posh as ever in an accent that sounded Russian or perhaps Eastern European. Whatever...it was something Slavic for sure and didn’t really matter.

“Um ya...yes, here to see Mr. Silver.” She grumbled nervously with a nod, and that signature Macleod lip nibble. A gesture that set off all the wrong signals, and made everyone know she was afraid.

“Ah Miss Macleod...yes...Please, come with me...” He urged with a crooked grin, as though somehow aroused by her presence and obviously ignorant of her disheveled appearance. It was unnerving and she had half a mind to toss a sardonic word his way, but a slip in attitude would probably be detrimental in gaining something from Silver. The haughty creep would most likely tell on her at the first opportunity. One couldn’t tell by glossing over her, but Claudia could always smell a rat like nobody’s business and he reeked profusely. Instead she took to a simple, unfazed nod but really a disgusted one in disguise. Down an exposed hallway they went, her eyes fluttering about at the excess, relentless unsettled nerves climbing up her spine. To her right there was a dojo-like space filled with sparring equipment fit for a world-class champion and to her left a room glittering with awards. Fuck...was this guy actually Bruce Wayne or what? She was mesmerized; even stupefied by everything, and suddenly the butterflies dancing in her stomach became wasps stinging madly. She wanted to run away out of fear; a fear of appearing foolish. It was all too much to bear. Silver seemed highly regarded, influential and where those adjectives would usually make someone feel confident about seeking financial aid, it did the opposite for Claudia.

What if he was a cautious benefactor who only gave to the most established of charities? Shit this was horrible...and just like that Silver wasn’t just another Vietnam buddy of Frank’s, but the supreme being she once believed he was. The situation was in every way problematic, and it wracked her brain with incomprehensible anxiety. Ya she had a thin, emaciated face, but she was no poster child of distinguished organization wanting to end world hunger and she didn’t have some disease without a cure. Suddenly everything seemed futile and she failed to see him extend a lending hand so effortlessly. The whole thing felt rather doomed, and all too quickly, she began to concern herself with a possible getaway route. There had to be a window or at least a corridor of escape somewhere. 

“And here we are...” The man chuckled loosely as he came to a full stop, his palm raised to a massive double door. “Mr. Silver is in conference, but he will see you very soon...”

Damn, too late!

“Okay...thanks.” She sighed hopelessly, feeling every inch of her soul wither away with every single clank of that pervert’s shoes. The further and further he ventured down the hall, the more she realized her destiny. This was the point of no return, and things could seemingly go only downhill from here. Fuck...well if this is the end...we might as well see what we’re in for...and fortunately enough for her, the crack in the double door was wide enough to take a reasonable peek. A peek... it would just be a peek and nothing more, she promised herself, naturally with little assurance. Claudia was a nervous force when meeting people, especially those from whom she needed a favor, but the strength of curiosity was always greater. The urge to poke around and learn something about a person was always on high and in the case of Terry Silver, it was simply through the roof. 

Driving her toes into the tiled floor, sliding tingling fingers up against the door, she peered through the open space and grew more apprehensive than before. Hazel eyes gazed upon a mighty, towering man dressed in a soft black suit, commanding someone’s attention through a cordless phone, his voice exuding a Gordon Gekko brand of confidence. Perhaps it was by virtue of his profession as CEO of a massive company, but the man had no apparent sign of battle like Kreese and he seemed relatively clean-cut, despite having a ponytail nuzzled against the nape of his neck. It was the 80's everyone had a ponytail at some point, it was the height of fashion but it wasn't always the most professional. Well isn’t that just great...she mumbled to herself, turning away with a palpitating heart, her head knocking back against the wall. This was sheer madness, she hadn’t met him yet, hadn’t said so much as a word and she was already sweating from every pore. Was wealth and stature really that scary? She’d encountered rich people before, they weren't some bizarre new species, nor a new breed of people. She'd served many at the bar, seen them come in and out of Frank’s body shop; they were everywhere, so none of this apprehension made any sense. Irrational and stupid, that's what this was. Whatever the outcome, good or bad, she had to get herself together. The worst thing he could do was say no, so who needed to be anxious right?

“Is that a Macleod I smell?” He laughed from behind the door, and suddenly she found herself back at square one, frightened again like a lamb to the slaughter. God that voice...who was she kidding with the dumb assurances?

“Oh um...ya...I mean yes, it is. Names, Claudia...I’m Frank’s niece.” She said quickly with a silent but deep gulp. Eyes fluttering towards the ceiling with a quick mumbled prayer, her fingers clutching roughly at the worn strap of her purse. Damn there wasn’t going to be enough purse leather or Hail Mary's for this...

“My god Frankie’s girl, in the flesh...well come on in...” He hissed, miming a grin of disbelief, fingers slipping and sliding haphazardly upon the mahogany desk. “and don’t be shy, I’m familiar...” He chuckled with a roll of his eyes, not bothering to rise from his seat as it wasn’t his way. If someone wanted Terry Silver, they had to come to him, Terry Silver moved for no one. 

Swallowing the vicious bile building in her throat, making every attempt at pulling up her boot straps, Claudia turned to face the music. With one subtle shift in her step, golden hues fell upon that of intense yet oddly comforting blue and the flailing heart ceased if only for a moment. Eyes said a lot about a person, spoke volumes of their character. Staring into Silver’s was like staring into a whirlpool of unpredictability, endless possibility and oddly enough, the oxygen in her lungs filtered better. A certain air of release came to surround her; a bit of sun slipped in to melt the ice under her feet. Yet that being said, she wasn’t willing to let her guard down completely, nothing was in the bag yet, things could still go south. 

“Sorry again about old Frank, I really am. He was a good man, and a real hero I might add. Crying shame he had to go like that, but I must say it was really a beautiful service.” He lied through his teeth with furrowed brows and tilted head, taking a good look at her. Sure she was poorly put together, but she was gorgeous, youthful and he could sense something else about her, something tantalizing and perhaps easy to manipulate. He could taste the subtle presence of anxiety and perhaps desperation in her; traits he often found in captured prisoners on the battlefield. It was amusing as it was ripe for the taking. He could definitely tamper with this, mess around, and have some much needed fun. Terry Silver had the finances to have a multitude of subordinates do all his corporate dirty work, but he preferred to do almost everything himself. The tedious process saved him from unwanted complications and turmoil, but all in all, it was exhausting. He felt tense, and he had it in himself to blow off some steam. Only his plans for taking the edge off, we’re always somewhere in the extreme and perhaps a little twisted. She was half his age and the niece of an old war acquaintance and infantry unit mate. Trying anything with her, using her, would be inappropriate, but at the end of the day, her uncle wasn’t Kreese. Frank Macleod, that coward, who spent more time smoking pot in the jungles than training with everyone else, could never measure up to Kreese. Johnny Kreese, was a mountain among men and Terry admired him beyond reproach, a soul he felt indebted to for saving his life one too many times. Terry would never hurt Kreese or anyone he held dear, but a relative Frank’s? Did it really matter? The man was dead and gone.

“Ya it’s been difficult...hard to believe he’s really out of our lives. He spoke highly of you, always said you were great friends...Actually that’s kinda why I’m here...Sir...”

“Only the best of...but drop the sir and take a seat, darling. Like I said we too, are friends now...” He grinned solemnly, pretending to be the kind, thoughtful party and getting on her level. Once he’d made her believe she was a kind of acquaintance, then anything was possible.

Nodding loosely in accordance, she slithered into the nearest leather chair, never once removing her glance. Everything seemingly matched with Silver. Every smile, every frown and bit of eye contact fit every spoken word and whether or not the conviction he seemed to carry was part of some act, it almost didn’t matter. She felt oddly safe, comfortable and suddenly rather capable of asking for his assistance.

“Good, that’s a good girl. Okay now tell me, what can your pal Terry do for you?” He sighed with false warmth, rising from his chair just to take a seat upon the bit of desk closest to her, if only to assert a kind of dominance. Yes he wanted to make her feel at ease, kindly relate to her like he was an equal, but there was a limit. This was after all, his turf and his game to play.

Ok so that felt a little more condescending than it should have, more so than she liked, but it was best to just let it slide. She was here to ask for a trying favor, and to insist of the presence of offended feelings would be utterly futile. It was best to just assume the position that he was older than her, and perhaps it was just his way of maintaining his supposed endearing nature. You know, endearing like Uncle Frank always said, anyway, here it was her moment of truth: time to put on those big girl pants and commit to what felt like a shameful sin.  
“Well I um...look Sir...I mean Terry, you seem very matter of fact, so I’ll do my best not to beat around the bush. I was fired from a local dive bar I worked in because of massive budget cuts. Frank’s pensions’ gone dry and I’m really in a bind…” She exclaimed with a release of her tightened chest, letting breaths of relief make their exodus while eyes searched his face. Jesus, If she didn’t need a cigarette before, she certainly did now. Too bad she was out of that too... “Honestly, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t absolutely necessary and if Frank hadn’t ever mentioned that you’d be one to help. I’m not asking for a handout...I just need a job...something, please...” She nearly begged, wiping the collected sweat from her temple. It may have been easy to spill the beans as he was being nice enough, but his glance was still a force to be reckoned with. 

Holy hell what delicious, desperate words! It was perfect, a dream come true. No longer was there a need to procure his impersonation of Mr. Rogers, and pretend he was overtly concerned about her dire situation. She’d promised him a chance at doing and being anything he wanted, and he was prepared to milk this to its fruition, for Terry Silver was a greedy son of a bitch. “Wise of you to come to me naturally, but I’m afraid DynaTox doesn’t have room for a new hire, but that being said, I do need someone I can trust on a more, personal level...” He grinned with a subtle lick of his lips and a point of his designer toe into the floor, trying best to remain composed and dignified. This would only be the start of his masterpiece; his vicious, egotistical plot and he couldn’t dare spoil it with too much displayed excitement. 

And there came the anxiety...again. The uncertainty and unease of what his request would entail, began to rattle her at her bones, and again arose the sensation to run away. Yet this time, she couldn’t really be bothered to adhere to it. In fact, she had to ignore it. She needed to make the conscious desire to feed and maintain the shelter above her head for the next year, the driving force and for go any negative thought. Like a pro-boxers final match before retirement, her efforts had to count, her legacy was at stake. Whatever he needed, whatever he wanted just had to be. “What d...did you have in mind? Like Secretarial?” 

“No...I have a Margaret for that...” He chuckled. “What I need is a kind of beard...you know, someone to attend a few insufferable parties and events with...I’d reward you for your trouble of course.” He assured with a calculated nod and a million watt smile, that could make a nun weak with temptation, while blue eyes busied themselves with sizing her up. He’d get her to go to a function or two, hand her some money, make her happy and then there’d be no telling what she’d do for more, it was a definite win-win scenario. Sure it was callous and underhanded, she wasn’t a “sugar baby”, but it was just the Silver Way of Life. Get what you want, regardless of the means...that was Dad’s way after all. “Maybe I’ll even get Margaret to find you something impressive to wear...In a size two I should think. Yep size two.” He grinned again but this time with a proud click of his tongue. Terry was no psychic, but in the face of something he craved, he was known to be rather perceptive, and he couldn’t say he didn’t admire the quality.

A part of her begged to question how he had detected her exact dress size with no assistance and why he assumed without hesitation that she’d need someone to pick something out, but the words failed to come. Instead she sat there in sheer disbelief, her slender frame nearly sinking into the leather with a smile, lost in a world of her own unfathomable luck. Sure the proposition was a little unorthodox and felt a little odd like he was fashioning her as a kind of escort, but it was the 80’s. In the 80’s one had to be aggressive with every opportunity in order to survive and Claudia, was desperate to do just that.

“So will that be a yes Miss Macleod, or do I get someone else? You snooze you lose as they say...” He snorted, crossing his arms about his chest with the aid of a deep shrug.

“Yes...and no you don’t need to find anyone else...I’ll be there, anywhere...” She smiled, nodding and blushing with embarrassment as she pulled herself out of her own mind.

“Good, then expect to hear from me. Milos will see you to the door...”


	3. Chapter 3

Keeping her meeting with Silver and it’s fateful outcome from Janet wasn’t right, but it was in every way mandatory for the sake of sanity. Janet had no reason to even dislike Silver, when everything said about him was either positive or wonderful. The issue keeping Claudia from coming clean to Janet, wasn’t Terry Silver, but with the meeting itself. Janet was a woman of pride, and learning that the girl she’d raised as her own had gone to someone like Terry to amend their financial situation, would not only embarrass her but it would unleash a kind of hell Claudia wanted no part of. First, she’d yell and scream about how this was Claudia cutting corners instead of committing to the arduous task of applying for work like the rest of the world and fail to really listen to any kind of protest. Then upon discovery of what work would be done for the money, Janet would lose herself in shame, call Silver herself to resend the offer immediately, and most likely disown Claudia. Life would spiral into an unimaginable state of chaos and she’d be out on the street in a heartbeat venturing from shelter to shelter. Let’s face it, without Janet, Claudia would have nothing left for which to stay alive. Family was everything to her, and death would be better alternative than a conscious existence without. For now, it was better to let sleeping dogs lie and just celebrate her stroke of luck the only way she knew how; with bourbon and fast food. Neither were good for her health or for maintaining that trim figure, but they were nostalgic, and drowning in a little bit of nostalgia was her idea of fun. Frank loved a huge, messy cheeseburger and a generous portion of bourbon, and since good fortune filtered through a close friend of his, it was both loving tribute and the perfect celebratory meal. It was rather presumptive, but Claudia believed that even Frank would be having a party for this good news, wherever the fates had led find him.

Home with a burger in hand, Poison blasting from the stereo and no sign of Janet, Claudia meandered towards the liquor cabinet with an elated grin. Fingers, spry and eager, pulled at the bottle of expensive bourbon, leftover from Frank, and a tall glass; she wasn’t going to just sip anything tonight. Tonight she was going to get hammered, and worry about the nasty consequences later. She knew better than to devour the bourbon viciously without drawing a subtle breath, but in the moment she had have a mind to care. Bourbon of this quality, needed to be savored and enjoyed slowly, but there wasn’t much of a thrill in that. She was on cloud nine, she was feeling spectacular and she was going to let loose and go wild. Sure drinking yourself stupid and eating alone, was on no one’s list of things to do to salute an achievement or the winning of a prize. It was on a whole other level of loneliness, and would indeed appear pathetic to the outsider or even Silver who had it all, but to Claudia it was nothing short of heaven.

::

Settling into an imported marble tub and puffing away at an illegal Cuban, in a less than humble abode, was the epitome of luxury. Wrapping his worn muscles with warm bubbles of vanilla after one too many back kicks in his private dojo was at the forefront of relaxation, but it was no pinnacle. The offer he’d made to the Macleod girl, however, was the end all. Terry Silver didn’t really need a reason to draw attention to himself at that glitzy charity event in a fortnight. His legendary grin or a cut of a hefty check would have the mob crawling to him, there was no question of that. The need for a beard, was just the perfect excuse; the perfect tool with which to catch the desperate girl. The possession of a plaything was the ultimate form of excitement and eventual relaxation. It was dishonest and nearly maniacal to have her believe he was committing a most pious act, and being the Good Samaritan but it made the taste of his cigar even sweeter. He’d give her everything she could never attain, treat her to the finest of material things and she’d be his to keep. Money was of no consequence, and just like the legs strapped to her person, this plot was utterly flawless. All he had left to do was to have Margaret find her something extravagant in a size two and in silver of course, and he’d be all set. It was all so easy, so seamless and indeed just cause for enjoying a whole bottle of champagne. Besides, he didn’t have any meetings scheduled for the following morning nor any proposal to procure about the next unfortunate third world country in which to dump waste. All would be well in the Valley of Silver for the night.

“Milos....get me the Dom Perignon, you’ll know it when you see it...” He grinned shamelessly into the bathroom phone, broad shoulders pressing effortlessly into the rear of the tub. He hadn’t crossed the finish line yet with her, hadn’t touched that championship trophy, but he was close enough and that was worthy of his favorite vintage bottle.

“Ya and bring it into the bath, I have some celebrating to do...”


	4. Chapter 4

Mornings...Claudia hated mornings, and this one came with a vengeance. Consuming bourbon as rapidly as she’d done the evening prior with very little to eat, she knew that she was destined for misery come morning, but a part of her had held on to hope. She’d even twice believed that her new found luck would allow the start of the day to show her some mercy, but naturally, it did no such thing. The alarm, glaring with the sound of some obnoxious disc jockey screaming about some on-air contest, threw her out of bed with a headache that felt like a growing tumor and a maddening storm in her belly. Feeling the latter of those two sensations tenfold, she jolted post-haste to the bathroom and whatever felt like coming out, found a home in the toilet. This release, although helpful, did nothing for her throbbing headache or the sudden ache in her arms and legs. Thank god, Janet kept tons of ibuprofen and club soda lying around or she’d be a goner. It was an odd combination for nine o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, or any morning for that matter, but there was just no way she’d be able to hold anything else down. Eggs would be nice, perhaps even Janet’s sorry excuse for bacon, but it would mean another trip to the bathroom and Claudia wanted to avoid that at all costs. 

Dressed in nothing but an old Def Leppard shirt she found in a drunken stupor sometime in the night, she took to the couch in a slow pace with a handy can of Canada Dry’s finest Club Soda and two small white pills. Only just before she could slip the pills into her mouth, the doorbell rang. Startled as to who it could be, and now properly awake, Claudia motioned for the door. Bending to look through the peep hole she found no one standing there. With curiosity burgeoning and the improbability of it being a game of ding-ditch someone was playing, she decided to check the shuttered side window. Looking down through a dusty plank, she discovered the culprit; a black box with a silver ribbon, and naturally her mind went to Terry Silver. Of course! How could she have forgotten so quickly! Silver did mention getting in touch and he didn’t seem like the type to procrastinate, so this had to be it. Giddy like a child at Christmas, and nearly forgetting about her headache, she unlatched the small padlock and pulled the box from the floor. Shutting the door behind her with a soft anxious chuckle, she slipped the box free of its ribbon and exposed a small monogrammed card.

Margaret outdid herself with this one...Wear it tonight, and consider it my gift to you for landing the job...My driver will pick you up at seven o’clock, sharp.  
Much love,  
Terry.

Margaret outdid herself with this one...My god, if such a statement wasn’t thrilling, she didn’t know what was! It build the excitement up like no other, and without so much as a quick breath, she ripped through the packing tissue. Hazel eyes widened quickly and lips nearly trembled at the wonder beneath. Fingers chipping of red nail polish, inched forward eagerly and flickered over a halter bodice of a dress softer than silk and dipped in a shade of shimmering silver, naturally. It was a wondrous sight to behold, and If there was ever a time to shed a tear over a formal gown, this would have been it. There was such glamour and romance built into the dress, that Claudia was inclined to believe that a wedding dress in some distance point in her future, wouldn’t even garner the same emotional response.

Rushing to her bedroom mirror, she carefully modeled the dress over her faded t-shirt, so as not to disturb its elegance, and smirked deliciously at her reflection. It was sexy in its backless form but deeply sophisticated, and for the first time in a long time, she felt empowered. Vanity was never really of interest to Claudia and neither was she really the kind toot her own horn, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she was going to be a knock-out in the dress. Margaret would surely get a raise, Silver would be floored or at the very least pleased with the results of his decision to hire her, and the world would be her oyster. All she had to do now was figure out how best to style one’s makeup and hair, this wouldn’t be just any ole night out. She had to pull at all the stops and maintain that stellar appearance, the gorgeous dress would set up at all costs. Not only did she have to look like a million bucks, she had to feel like a million bucks, or this wasn’t going to work.

For now, she’d fit the dress on a hanger, slide it into her closet amongst the other clothes, take the ibuprofen pills for the sake of security and fiddle about with long brown tresses. Naturally it would have been better to seek the aid of a hairdresser for such a big night, but money was tight, she couldn’t use cash and Janet would definitely question the charges to the card. She wouldn’t take “I needed to look good for a job interview” lying down or sitting up right for that matter, because there just weren’t any coming in. As mentioned before, Claudia wasn’t going to take any chances on Janet. There had to be something she could create about her head with a hefty brush and a curling iron. Her wasn’t really of the unmanageable kind if she put in the time, and there was plenty of that. Whatever event lay in store was hours away.

Reaching into a drawer of mismatched hair clips, old hair dye containers and combs, she found said iron and a rounded brush perfect for crinkling out the waves. Curls weren’t much, didn’t require that much effort but they were pretty and on her, they seemed to always look fabulous. Sometimes they’d make such an impression, that even strangers would ask if she’d been to some high-end salon and paid the big bucks to achieve the look. More often than not she’d say no and garner expressions of confusion or wild disbelief, and that was always fun.

::

Up in his castle on high, Terry had risen early to greet the day with a gleeful grin and a brisk jog, sans concern over his wardrobe or appearance for that evening’s event. Terry Silver had a hundred different suits, and a hundred more fitted tuxedos cut from the finest of European ateliers. Something appropriate and to his liking would surely be found amongst the plethora, and if not he did have an excellent tailor on speed dial. There was just no need to worry or to panic, this gala wasn’t his big show after all, it was hers.

Sweaty and riled with energy, his muscles beaming through his tank, Terry slipped into his dojo to practice his infamous back kick, the Tang Soo Do forms he’d refined after the war and gain his center, in case his dastardly plot was to somehow unravel. He had faith that it wouldn’t and there really wasn’t the highest rate of probability that something would go awry, but still, he couldn’t be too trusting. She seemed insecure and rather fragile, but in truth he didn’t know her that well. All he knew was what Frank had told him a long time ago, and none of it was ever specific. He had no way of really knowing if the persona she held during their brief meeting was a kind of mask or not, and he couldn’t take a chance. He had to have all his strength, his wit and sense of focus on point. His third eye had to be open wide, and a little bit of karate was the way to do it. No mood altering phone calls nor huge meals would be taken, the afternoon would revolve around maintaining balance. Terry wasn’t the most patient of souls and it always required a lot of work to find any bit of calm, but the final reward of this venture was the right kind of motivation.


	5. Chapter 5

Before she could dare to blink, morning had slipped into evening, Janet was still nowhere to be seen and that dress, reflective of old Hollywood, had finally graced her petite form. The glittering material felt like the warm flesh of a newborn child, and that plunging slit at her back covered in luscious waves of hair, fell to stun her once again. She felt like a queen, like some celestial being in the dress, and if she were to drop dead this second, she’d drift to either heaven or hell with a smile. Ecstasy seemed to exist in the fabric and the confidence lay in what was most important, the stitching. In this gown with her hair and makeup done to the nines, she could be anything and anyone, and that was both special and surreal. If only her mother and Uncle Frank could see her now, they’d be in tears or at the very least beaming with a sense of pride.

Seven o’clock came swiftly like a race car hitting that Indy 500 finish line, and like clockwork there was a black Rolls Royce waiting out front; a sheer spectacle for any nosy neighbor of which there were many on the block. The only fancy vehicle they’d surely seen come around was the occasional limousine called upon for a wedding or prom at the local high school, and one could only hope that someone wouldn’t come knocking tomorrow asking for the details. If they did so and it was very early or when Janet made it home, there’d be hell to pay. In any case, she couldn’t fixate over what she couldn’t really control nor what hadn’t happened yet, for it would bring unwanted stress and that would spoil everything. Her trial run with Silver had to be smooth, untarnished by any negative sensation or she could never forgive herself. 

Applying that last coat of lipstick in a shade of red, fit for a harlot but subtle enough, Claudia slid through the front door and into the car with a quick hello to the driver. He seemed solemn and quiet, barely responsive to her greeting and where that would normally unnerve her, it did no such thing. In fact she could say it did the opposite. It was calming and somehow even comforting when a lick of apprehension still ate away at her stomach. Having a driver, who perhaps knew Silver better than most, say nothing or ask nothing gave her room to collect herself and from thinking too much. Instead she reclined against the tan cushiony leather of the backseat, staring out the window as the car ventured further away from the house. The sky grew darker naturally but the cityscape began to glisten under a blanket of lights, Los Angeles morphing into a spectacle. Claudia was born in LA, grew up in the Valley, and believed she’d seen everything but as they drove the city grew more beautiful and perhaps more foreign. LA had its faults like any metropolitan city, but it was a real looker, a real treat to behold, and all it seemed to take was a ride in a flashy Rolls Royce to make that crystal clear. Los Angeles had been a place she desperately wanted to forget; a despicable land she wanted to deny she was from, but in the moment, she felt like she was in heaven. Funny how a touch of class and luxury, made everything rosy and converted one’s usual surroundings into a kind of paradise.

The driveway of the Ritz-Carlton. That’s where the car came to a halt, and where she wanted to slap herself silly. Silver had mentioned the event would be glitzy, but he never said lavish and left so much to her imagination. The Ritz, a branch of hotels with a multitude of locations across the US of A, was always a concept romanticized in her head and coveted only in dreams. She never pictured being in the back out of one or much less being allowed to enter and she thank god for the sleek, glittering dress. My god what else had Silver kept from her...was all she could think of, while a deep breath slipped from plump lips as the passenger door cracked open. Slithering out of the car with the aid of the figuratively mute driver, hazel eyes met once again with blue. Smirking at her in a tuxedo smooth and tailored perfectly to his lengthy, muscle bound form, Silver was a vision and she couldn’t keep her jaw from the floor. If she hadn’t taken him in before she was now, and what she swallowed was rather glorious. Was it criminal to check him out, when he was an employer? Was it a political offense? Probably, but he held a certain je ne sais quoi about him as the French would put it, and looking away was hard to do. She couldn’t help herself from gawking even if she tried. A certain inexplicable heat radiated from him and if she wasn’t too careful, there was a chance she could burn and in turn lose her job, and that wasn’t a gamble she could afford.

Holy hell, what a transition...He thought to himself before taking a grand step forward. When she strolled into his office with that drab excuse for a professional suit and messy hair, a part of him had contemplated calling off his plot, but now he was glad he’d made the effort to see past his first impression. With a little bit of makeup, time put into her hair and a dazzling designer dress, she was perfect, the perfect model woman and he couldn’t be more thrilled. Her unusual features: those high cheekbones, those rounded chameleon eyes and those enthralling legs, one of which would convenient slip out of that slit all night, made everything right in his mind and quickly renewed his faith in once again being the envy of every man in the room.

“Good evening...you look stunning and judging by that face, I’d say the ride was to your liking...” He grinned shamelessly, clicking his tongue at the loaded smile gracing her flushed cheeks.  
“Thank you... ya drove like a dream...” She replied with a brief sigh of relief, delighted that her gawking had gone unnoticed and that the only topic of conversation was the car. “To be honest, I can’t say I really expected anything less. Car’s a beaut and Andrew’s the best damn driver there is, really knows his way around her....so win win.” He snorted with a deep shrug, blue eyes pouring into her soul with reckless abandon. 

“Well if we’re being honest, I’ll be honest too. I never thought I’d ever find myself in a Rolls let alone here, at the Ritz...” She nodded with a full-bodied chuckle, attempting to hide how embarrassed she felt to admit this truth and how viciously he made her tremble. 

“First time for everything Macleod...everything...” He hissed with widened eyes, extending a hand in her direction, silver cufflinks twinkling against decorative tree lights and that full summer moon. “If you don’t take that first plunge, you’ll never do it, trust me Sweetheart...” He winked with a crinkle of his chiseled nose, his tone naturally playful but a touch patronizing. She was being open and frank with him, and allowing her to feel comfortable in doing so, was necessary to the plan. It was a must in order to reel her in for the kill, but hearing little orphan Annie bits of honesty from anyone was never really appetizing. Terry Silver had no patience to play Daddy Warbucks or pity anyone for even a second and always motioned to change the subject before the person could really continue. “So what do you say? Should we give it a go?” He sighed with the sincerest of grins, his dojo exercised calm was beginning to fade the longer his palm lingered for hers in mid air.

“Alright...” She nodded with a subtle bite of her lip, returning the grin and sliding her shaken hand in his. He was right, she had to bite the bullet and do this, but “taking the plunge” was easier said than done. He was being supportive with that special ex-military brand of encouragement Frank often utilized when she felt insecure about any given endeavor. Only this wasn’t her hitting the pavement with a bicycle for the first time or taking a behind the wheel driving test. Going inside such an exquisite hotel and mingling with people above her social class, was out of her element, and it didn’t help that she’d have someone as gorgeous and as complicated as him, watching her throughout.


	6. Chapter 6

Behind elaborate iron doors, lay a glistening wonderland; a real spectacle to behold. Sparkling lights illuminated an elongated hall like it was New Year’s Eve, glorious centerpieces full of fresh flowers brought vivid color and intoxicating scents to every table within view and if that wasn’t enough, a beautiful aria even accompanied them towards a bustling patio. With every stride down the hall, there was something magical to witness, and it made her eyes widen with child-like glee and the grip on his hand tighten further. He could feel his flesh burning against her palm, but for that thrilled look upon her face, the pain was well worth it and it made him grin from ear to ear. If all it took was a bit of five-star hotel excess to make her beam with joy, there was no telling what his charms and everything else he had yet to offer, would serve to accomplish.

At this rate, by midnight, she’d be too dazzled to remember that this was just a job, that she was just a beautiful nobody, and find herself in his bed. When one had dashing facial features, the physique of an Adonis, and enough money to have a million women at his feet, this kind of trickery was unnecessary and even perverse, but he didn’t care; he had to have her. Possessing Claudia Macleod was more or less a forbidden act, not to mention a form of disrespect to a fallen comrade regardless of indifference, but Terry Silver loved shattering a good taboo and let’s face it, being morally unconscionable was a lot of fun.

“Jesus Terry, when you said “some glitzy event”, I didn’t think it would be anything like this. This is gorgeous...” She whispered aloud with awe and a shaken grin, letting go of his strong hand only to lean it against the railing overlooking the elegant, happening garden below. 

“Well when you’ve been to as many functions as I have, at this hotel, you kinda forget what it’s like, everything becomes a blur, can you forgive me?” He chuckled quietly, miming a saddened frown with a tilt of his had, his hips shifting forward against the ledge, closer to her. 

“I think I just might have to...Boss.” She laughed, hazel eyes twinkling up at him, while her nerves began to flutter away slowly in the airy playfulness of their discourse. He was suddenly so very sweet, so lighthearted and less condescending in tone like the elder he was, that she couldn’t help but feel a little relaxed and perhaps able to pull that stick of anxiety out of her ass and actually enjoy herself. 

“What’s say you forget calling me that, just for tonight, and I’ll get us some champagne?” He asked, pursing his lips into a grin and surveying every inch of her face. She was nothing but a prohibited object of desire, that would soon be a habitual conquest if he was lucky enough, but he couldn’t deny her the trait of beauty and in the moment, sheer elegance. To say he’d made the right choice with her as far as looks were concerned, was an understatement, Terry Silver had hit the jackpot. “I’ll do it, just this once, if only for the champagne.” She joked, giving his arm a light slap with the back of her hand, not realizing the weight of what she’d done until after she’d done it. The touch was brief and utterly subtle, but she’d still put an uninvited hand on him and that made her freeze with sudden worry. He’d made it perfectly clear not to treat him like a stiff employer for the evening, they’d been pretty loose with each other and there was an off chance he wouldn’t think twice about it, but naturally Claudia felt somewhat insecure. Silver was a different breed of man than she was used to. He was powerful, sharp; a chameleon of sorts, and in the end, it was virtually impossible to gage what he could be perceptive of at any given moment.

“I can live with that...Who knows, maybe a bit of bubbly will do the body some good...” He countered with a smirk, releasing a deep exhale, and covering her mouth with her palm.

Damn, what a call out...but for her nerves? It didn’t make much sense, but there was no way she’d dig into the how or the why. It was for the best to let this too, just be and forget about it or she’d dwell on it for hours.

“I’ll be right back...try not to trouble yourself too much, Beautiful, please.” He sighed, turning his smirk into the tenderest smile he could muster; another stark attempt at genuine worry for her. Yet in his mind, all he could think of was how wrapping her around his finger was made so deliciously simple because of her exhibited anxiety. A calming word here and there, a warm grin for no reason other than to make her feel safe, cared for, and she’d be like putty in his hands. This was all too marvelous, too superb and the fact that he wouldn’t have to wait for the next event to make his first move, was the icing on the cake.

“I...I’ll do my best...”

Try not to trouble yourself too much, Beautiful, please. The words played on in her head like a busted track on a 12 inch, his softened tone echoed in her ears, and suddenly watching him depart for the bar felt like shipping a new lover off to war. Though his tone could be a tad sardonic at times, Silver was rather warm, desperately attentive and....Beautiful...he’d called her beautiful. The last time anyone had called her that, it was at work and they were drunk off their ass and nearly passing out. It was an all around miserable experience, if not traumatizing and she never wanted to think of ever again. Hearing such a term ascend from his lips, fleshy and perfect, felt like the living end and as crazy and as inappropriate as it was, she could feel herself falling hard for him. Maybe it was her occasional naivete muddling things, making things complicated, but if he were to kiss her cheek even in passing, she’d melt and find it virtually impossible to take his money. My god what would Frank think. What would he say if he could see her now? Probably nothing good. He’d probably insist she was being an emotional fool and he would be right, as usual, but she couldn’t help herself. Silver was slowly filling that gaping void in her life, feeding her the kind of compassion from a man, that she hadn’t tasted in a long time, and her heart couldn’t keep itself from racing. 

Well she ate that up most definitely, gotta keep it up, your almost home buddy...He thought to himself with a ginger grin, waltzing back to her, with two cool, champagne flutes in hand. The more he cradled her, the more he softened the blows of insecurity, and pretended to care about her on some deep level, the more subservient she’d become, and that what he craved to achieve. Making an innocent with low self-esteem, believe she was important above all else, loved and greatly appreciated was the oldest trick in the book for possession. Most people would naturally considered such a course of action to be deceitful and sadistic but Terry Silver wasn’t most people, and he’d kind of made an art out of it. Whether it was a prospective member of his household staff, of DynaTox management, or just a woman he was after, Terry was in the business of buttering them up until they wanted to be nowhere else but at his side. 

“There, a lovely drink for an even lovelier woman. One sip and you’ll be over the moon, scouts honor.” He nodded, passing her a flute and maintaining that incredible million watt grin, that drove nearly everyone to their knees. Hell he’d even market the thing if he could. 

“Y...you’re something else Terry Silver...” She hummed, shaking her head with an anxious sip of the bubbling champagne, her heart crawling up her throat. “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

There it was, the pathetic voice...wondering and questioning why anyone would do anything for poor little me. It was despicable and unflattering to hear, but if he wanted to make his wish come true, he had to tolerate it. No, he had to treat it kindly and make it feel at home, until the soul encasing it, was wrapped tightly around his manicured finger.

“Because you’re special...”He sighed, sliding his glass over the edge of the table beside him. “In fact, I knew that the second you walked into my office...” He nodded, closing the gap between them and drawing the back of his hand to her soft cheek. “And because of that I’ve decided to cancel our arrangement …”

“Cancel...you want to cancel it?” She asked, her eyes growing frantic with apprehension, feeling that discomforting bit of bile rise up her throat again. Cancel...He wanted to cancel when they’d gotten this far? Sure at one time, she’d felt that their arrangement was too good to be true, but when the dress came in and the car pulled up to her house, she’d rid herself of such a thought almost immediately. So naturally when he claimed he wanted to end it all, she was filled with burgeoning distress. She was jumping the gun with conclusions in her head, but history proved it best to wait, to let someone finish before she blew a gasket. 

“Yes, but it’s nothing you did wrong, nothing like that...” He shook his head with a click of his tongue, brushing a strand of hair away from her frightened eyes, his solemn expression worthy of an Academy Award. “Look I know we’ve only just begun with this, but I care about you Claudia, and tonight I realize that this job...this job is an insult to you and so come Monday morning, I’m letting Margaret go...” He nodded confidently, his blue eyes digging deep into hers with a sip of the champagne. It was a lie, Margaret wasn’t getting laid off. Margaret was a gem, the best secretary he’d ever had with an impenetrable work ethic, but above all that she knew about almost every horrid exploit he’s ever carried out. Firing her, would be like flinging himself into a hornet’s nest, she’d tell the media everything and the public would surely eat him alive. So no Margaret was going nowhere but on that vacation she always wanted, and for at least two weeks preferably. Two weeks would give him plenty of time to keep up with this charade and get his fill.

“You, you want me take Margaret’s job? I...I don't know...I mean, that, that can’t be fair...” She shook her head with a bite of her lip, caught in a bind and lost in his words. There it was, out in the open, his true feelings, and the emotions felt slaughtered her in the best of ways, but her mind was ultimately restless. Being his secretary was an even better opportunity, but it required her to be heartless and she wasn’t sure she could be.

“Naturally I hate to say it, but life’s not fair Claudia...life’s never fair and Margaret’s tough, she’ll understand...” He insisted with a confident click his tongue, taking up his glass of champagne for a taste, his eyes still fixed upon her.

Life wasn’t fair, and Claudia knew that better than anybody. Between losing nearly everyone you ever truly loved and a job that stank but had good pay, life was a real bitch, and putting an elderly woman out of a job wasn’t poetic justice. It was be wrong and it would be kind of immoral, but the truth was, she had no idea what Margaret’s situation was like. Maybe she was loaded and working for Silver was a means of keeping her mind fresh and for passing time. It definitely wasn’t much of a rational, or an effectual excuse, but it made her feel better about saying yes that’s for sure.

“Okay I’ll do it...If you’ll promise me she’ll be taken care of...” She was urged with a deep breath, scratching at the bottom of her neck, awash with guilt and relentless nerves.

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving her out in the cold...you have my word...” He hummed, nodding piously, though his skin crawled with unabashed euphoria and desire. He was a day or perhaps a few moments away from a world of pleasure, a world of devotion onto himself and the sense of elation couldn’t be helped.


	7. Chapter 7

Being his secretary, his personal secretary, would take a lot of getting used to as far as emotions were concerned, but come hill or high water, she had to make it work. With every gentle word, every laugh and soft glance exchanged, she felt herself falling into a deeper hole. Her heart burned for him, her body ached for his touch and quickly, she wondered as to how on earth she’d handle seeing him everyday without acting on her raging feelings. The way he worked the glittering room, effortlessly jazzing the young and the old with gripping tales of travels around the world and corporate takeovers, was like nothing she’d ever seen. He was incredible as he was fascinating and she couldn’t stop herself from admiring him. Silver was just a man, but she now understood why Frank managed to think he was superhuman and revere him as much as he did. Terry Silver was a dream unlike any other, and if she could sleep without a single thought of him that night, it would be a certified miracle. He warmed her to the core with his existence alone, and clinging to his arm like she had been from the start, felt like sheer torture. Terry Silver was someone she couldn’t have: an unattainable figure, and the closer she got to him, the more wrecked she became, and it didn’t help that she’d lost count of the champagne she’d consumed. Tequila, bourbon, these spirits did nothing to her in large amounts, but champagne, sweet fizzy champagne was another story. 

“Terry, Terry you’re lovely and I think I’m drunk...” She muttered with a snort, her doe eyes peering up at his face with a dazed grin. She was nearly out of it, she was beginning to see spots twinkling overhead, but she could still feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. It was pulsing for him and him alone, but even in such a state, she knew she couldn’t do anything about it. 

Nearly keeling over at a donor’s gala and talking funny, how embarrassing yet perhaps perfect at the same time... He thought to himself with a smile, as her glass-like gaze settled upon his eyes. Her breasts were nearly plunging out from the front of her dress, her flesh was glittering with sweat prematurely, and like any man being offered such a glimpse, he could feel his manhood swelling against the silk of his tux. She was weak, powerless and the scenario was prime for taking advantage, but Terry Silver was no pig. He wanted to siphon her bounty, swallow her up body and soul, but he wouldn’t dream of trying anything there like some ravenous wolf. Terry Silver was relentless and crazed when it came to what he wanted, but he had manners, and Claudia was a soul he wanted to romance into submission, not rip to shreds in public no less.

“Oh I think your a little more than that, Sweetheart but it’s alright...” He chuckled loosely, lifting her up till her feet kept themselves from slipping. “Come on, let’s get you out of here...” He nodded with a playful shake of his head, clutching both her bare shoulder and arm against his chest like he was a kind of safety net. It felt foolish to embrace her or anyone in that way, but her body fit neatly under his wing like it belonged there, and that served to quickly change his opinion. To have her nuzzled so comfortably against his frame, was perhaps even apt to plan if he were to consider it.

Mouthing his goodbyes and clips of gratitude to the organizers of the gala with her still firmly planted at his side, Terry made his way to the Rolls, its arrival ever prompt as was customary with Andrew. No matter what car he drove, no matter the condition, rain or shine, he could rely on Andrew to be on schedule. Loosening his grip on her if only for a moment, he signaled for Andrew to inch the car forward and for him to sit and wait once he got there. Ordinarily he’d allow for Andrew to do the work of fitting a passenger in his car, but Claudia wasn’t a regular passenger, she was precious cargo more or less.

“Claudia...” He nudged, returning his hand to her soft shoulder, caressing a bit of skin between his fingers. Drunk and falling over, she was still warm to the touch and it was tantalizing. “Do you think you could open your eyes for just a second, Beautiful? Cars here...We need to get you inside”. He insisted, mouth forming a tender grin, hand slithering down and around her waist.

“Hmm...anything for you...high ho...Quicksilver...” She slurred, flickering her eyes open and saluting him like a soldier, as she wobbled against his grip, heels clanking haphazardly against the pavement.

Quicksilver...Wow he hadn’t heard that nickname in ages, it felt like a total blast from the past. It took him back to Vietnam and sparring with Kreese, good ole’ savior John Kreese. Terry was ruthless and unforgiving, but he was sentimental when it came to the war and John. There were just too many memories he couldn’t forsake and most seemed to surround the silly nickname. Some were awful, harrowingly awful, but the good ones outweighed the bad in retrospect, and that made hearing it again nearly bittersweet.

“Good, that’s a good girl...” He chuckled, drawing no attention to what she’d said because she wasn’t of sound mind to discuss it, and hoisted her up over the sidewalk and into the backseat. Without much for erratic, ridiculous movements aside from crawling on her hands and knees to the window, all was well. She was inside and they could get this show on the road without conjuring up anymore stock for embarrassment.

Finally seated himself, he loosened his cufflinks and slouched against soothing leather, his body finally able to relax. They were home free, away from those bourgeois clowns and their mindless, droning discussions about golf and the housing market. He himself was one to talk. Judging by his high end taste in fashion and the many luxury cars he owned, he would be considered bourgeois to the outsider looking in, but in his opinion he was of a different caliber. Terry Silver was richer than rich, but that wealth didn’t come without struggle, and that in his mind separated him from the rest. Most were given everything on platters of silver, never having to work for much of anything, but that wasn’t his reality.

Leaning against the comfortable seat, he watched her bob in and out of slumber with every speed bump and every stop sign, soft moans emitting from her lips. It couldn’t have been pleasant to try and sleep with a head he knew was whirling and throbbing, but she looked like an angel. A messy, neurotic angel, prime for eventual corruption. Her legs flung off to the side just inches from his own, long and smooth, would be like heaven to touch he imagined, and the anticipation nearly drove him up the wall. The wait was a pain in his side, a source of great torment, but in the end it was ultimately necessary, to ensure her unsullied devotion. Touching her now, in the manner he so desperately craved, would not only label him a creep and in turn disrupt the even flow of things, and that wasn’t a scenario he could really afford. For now he’d take her to his mansion above the clouds, settle her into a plush bed and let her rest properly through the night, upon cool, imported sheets of satin.


	8. Chapter 8

As the Rolls came to a complete stop in the elongated driveway, he turned to her frame laying there helpless and asleep, without the slightest bit of cognition at her side. For a moment he felt a sense of guilt for failing to limit her consumption of champagne and for bringing her into his home instead of hers. Yet in sliding towards her with one hand drifting to her smooth back and the other slithering beneath her knees, caressing just an inch of her, that bit of shame began to fade. When he had her in the palm of his hands literally and figuratively, there really wasn’t any room for such a useless emotion like a guilt. Feelings of remorse and regret always set one back, made losers out of winners, and Terry Silver wasn’t willing to go down that road again, not now and not ever. 

Her body was warm, tender, and in contrast to hands registered as lethal weapons, as he carried her over the threshold like a groom did his new bride, and he couldn’t help but grin. Every breathy moan spilling out from red painted lips was more stimulating than the last, and every curl of lacquered fingertips against his chest, drove him wild and through that, the obsession with this selection grew perhaps more manic. The more she moved about in his arms, the more aggravated and painful became the sense of temptation, but still the timing wasn’t right. Taking deep breaths to pacify the burning urge to wake her and take her on a long, feral ride, he made his way into the first bedroom he could find; the old dojo neatly converted into a guest room, that seemed forever vacant until now. Initially he’d considered bedding her down in his room further down the hall, but the thought of all the suspicions that would arise over such a decision come morning, did everything to negate that course of action. It was better this way; better to tuck her into this otherwise fine bed, and avoid wrecking his plan. Leading her to believe he’d ravished her in her sleep and taken advantage of her condition, wouldn’t be good for her, for him, but more importantly the plot at hand. No this bedroom would have to do and his behavior, had to be that of a saintly sister nurse. Calmly trying best so as not to disturb her slumber, he pushed aside most of the fancified pillows with his free hand and set her upon the black, satin comforter. The feel of which, was temperate enough for a body figurately on fire and ravaged by alcohol. Upon contact with outmost luxury and comfort, she stretched out onto her stomach with an unconscious smile, not at all aware that like a hawk, he hovered over her, in awe of his own equity.

“Mmm he’s everything...e...everything, Frank...” She murmured softly as though lost in a dream, tilting her head into the pillow and extending her leg through a slit of shimmering silver. She hadn’t mumbled the words I love, I’m in love with or much less mentioned his name, but he knew damn well what her senseless babble meant to convey. She was trapped in the midst of a working dream, and he was inclined to believe that he was the subject of that seemingly pleasant bit of reverie, as was what he’d given her. If the possibility of gaining her admiration and her devotion wasn’t all that clear before, it was crystalized now. Fantasies and dreams were nine tenths of the time, rooted in truth and some form of reality, and suddenly both his enlarged ego and his selfishness, stumbled into a hole of ecstasy and wonder. If he’d managed to infiltrate her sleeping thoughts, let alone her mind so quickly, with nothing but a lavish party and a couple of endearing gestures, then the slightest bit of intimacy spinning her way would surely make him a permanent fixture. A touch tainted with deception, a maddening kiss burying her up to her knees, would ruin her for other men or much less keep her from even a parting glance in another’s direction.

You’re everything too my little pet, my beautiful pet... He hummed to himself, smirking upon her in wild stupor and slithering his sleek knuckle gently over her resting arm, delighting in the notion that like a hurricane, he’d pillaged her senses.


	9. Chapter 9

Relentless and overbearing like a strict mother to a troubled child, the sun, flipped through even shades, piercing her frame and raising her up to an alert position like Jesus did Lazarus, only she wasn’t amused by the miracle and was in throbbing pain. Her head felt like a balloon floating into a pressurized zone, ready to implode much like the morning prior, only this time she wasn’t in the comfort of her own bed. No scratch that...she was in a whole bedroom she didn’t recognize; a room all together unfamiliar. Could it have been Silver’s master bedroom? It certainly looked lavish enough and the duvet felt like pure satin. My god if it was his, then this had to be his bed...Fuck....what happened last night? She couldn’t remember a thing, couldn’t even recall the process of leaving the Ritz Carlton or falling asleep. Christ this was bad, and if she’d done something with Terry, this was going to be very bad indeed. Panicked and desperately unnerved, she padded down her person and luckily she was still wearing that heavenly dress, albeit drawn up to her lower back, flashing black laced panties to the blistering California sun. Thank fuckin’ god for that! She thought, and felt a sigh of relief, but too bad she wasn’t in the clear just yet. Claudia could never trust herself to do the right then when drunk and the glittering dress could only explain so much. What if they both had had too much to drink? What if they’d fooled around and she’d simply managed to put her clothes back on before crashing? There were just too many nerve wracking possibilities as to what went on, and she wasn’t quite sure if she could live with herself if she didn’t uncover the truth. Flinging the vast number of pillows aside and crawling off the foreign bed, she straightened out the dress, and that mess of a mane to appear at least somewhat presentable, in order to get to the bottom of this. If the bedroom had been Terry’s and if this was his house, which she was more or less certain it was, then he’d be the one with a proper explanation. No matter how embarrassing or awful his account of last night’s events could be, she had to grin and bare it, there was no other choice in the matter. Hell if he had to fire her, at least she could look back and say she tried to help her family and that it was marvelous while it lasted. 

Venturing down the corridor, covered in stark Aztec tile and passing the little dojo space, she could hear the crashing and flipping of pans and plates. A few steps more, revealed an open concept kitchen with all the trimmings and him standing in the middle of it, seemingly cooking up a storm. He seemed focused and relaxed with his hair loose and free from the confines of a meticulous ponytail and his well-proportioned frame nuzzled against a black silken kimono. My god, even without the expensive suit and polish, he looked like a million dollars sitting in an off-shore account somewhere. He was more impressive like this, tucked away in comfort than in formal attire, and if she didn’t have a pressing matter to attend to, she’d remain there at the wall staring at him and filling her head with thoughts that more inappropriate to their upcoming work relationship, than being hungover in his home.

“Uh...Hi...” She exclaimed in a voice still groggy and chock full of embarrassment, biting her lip almost uncontrollably. 

“Ah she rises...Did we sleep well?” He asked, crinkling his lips in a pleasant grin, hands chopping away at vegetables. “Cause you sure took a beating last night...” He chuckled, tossing mushrooms and green onions into a cackling skillet of eggs.

A beating? What the hell did that mean? She wondered and up came the anxiety again. Goddamn it they’d had sex....and it was rough? All she had was speculation, but lord was the scenario growing worse in head with each passing minute. 

“Um just...Just what did happen last night...exactly?”   
“Well you were sure cozy with that champagne...Tried to get you to stop, but you were having such a good time that I didn’t have the heart to carry on...” He lied with a light snort, shrugging his shoulders so vividly that his kimono parted slightly at his chest. There he was playing the good ole’ Boy Scout, the Good Samaritan, pretending he’d been the responsible party.

“Did we...you know...do something we’ll, you know regret?” She sighed nervously, pretending she hadn’t taken that slip of skin into account, and instead forced her eyes into his, which didn’t help so much either. Drinking hard enough to make him want to put up a cease and desist order, had to be only half of the story, but nature and physics, had to make things difficult.

“Well if we did, doubt you’d still be wearing that dress...” He mused sardonically, lifting his brow at the silver dress still clinging to her fit frame, and quickly flipped the eggs over. A part of him wanted to say that if they’d done what she was foolishly spooked about, she’d still be feeling him in every inch of her body, but it was much too soon for that sort of thing. For now this would be enough to mess with her head, besides, it was far more thrilling a thing, to just let her read between the lines.

Touché...ouch...He’d proven the argument of the dress. It was point one for Team Silver, only it burned her that he had such a way with his words. Doubt you’d still be in that dress...Oh that one would nag at her the rest of the day. It was loaded with slight innuendo, leaving her limbs almost atrophied, and her cheeks blushing to even think about being naked with him in that mansion. No couldn’t dare think that, this was just a joke made to prove a point...it had to be.  
“So...I just passed out here and nothing else happened?” She replied with a tilt of her head and slipped forward into the island stool, more or less relieved on the issue, but now she needed to clear her head of the fantastical imagery. She’d been given a higher position now, and having romantic thoughts for one’s boss, was a turn down the wrong path. This had to stop now.

“Right...Now ease your mind, Beautiful. Eat, you’ve gotta be starved...” He nodded with a callous grin, arching himself forward against the counter and slipping her a plated omelet. “And you’ll need your strength, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us...” He hissed, blue eyes eagerly awaiting for her to take that first bite.

“Work, today...dress like this?” She gasped, teeth barely grazing the fork, complete disbelief washing over her like she’d seen an apparition in the distance, it was bad enough he’d called her beautiful...again. Wow...something she could recall and my god was he incorrigible. Terry Silver was definitely something else. Everything was unexpected with Terry and being told to start work today, in this condition, was definitely another unprecedented thing to add to the list. Only being made to do so looking like Miss America after a night celebrating the crown, that had to be insane.

“Today’s’ good as any, but of course not in that...I’m sure we can find something in this great big house for you to wear, and naturally you’re welcome to use any of the showers here...” He insisted with a slight patronizing tone and nodding smile, his golden chain glistening against the peeking sunlight; her mortal enemy. Her anxious heart pressed her to demand that it wasn’t wise and that she wasn’t quite sure she’d be comfortable with that, but truthfully, her mind; the central governing body wasn’t at all sure what was the correct course of action anymore. The shame of getting plastered in front of him, her employer, made her lose sight of what was right or wrong, and all she wanted to do was set things right, make amends.

“I mean if it’s not too much trouble, I...I suppose I could.” She agreed, finally taking that fateful bite, pushing the vegetables and eggs down into that beehive forming in her stomach.

“None at all, and if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been in your shoes myself...too many times...” He fibbed, furrowing his brows in that made-to-order and expertly crafted bit of sincerity. Terry drank of course he did, but he was never a lush, not since young adulthood at least. Now he only sipped the finest scotch and bourbon money could afford him, and refused to let liquor get ahead of him. Terry refused to give anything the right to shatter his sense of clarity, his focus and his handle on life, but of course he wouldn’t dream of telling her that.

“So finish those eggs and I promise we’ll get you settled soon enough...”


	10. Chapter 10

Delicious, delectable, these words defined the omelet he’d made and she promptly digested, and it wasn’t even a matter of being in any way biased. Claudia wasn’t a betting woman, but she’d never have put money on him being able to cook, and to do so like that, with such skill. Judging by the extreme wealth he possessed and the little time he’d have to spare, what with running a Fortune 500 company day in and day out, she’d assumed he’d have little to no patience for cultivating any prowess in the kitchen, but she’d been proven wrong, dead wrong. It was just an omelet he’d made, a handful of eggs and vegetables, but when one couldn’t even make toast without burning it, it was something huge. For Claudia, any dish no matter how simple, was special when made with obviously talented hands, and this was no exception. Only she wished her level of respect and reverence for the meal, would remain limited to that notion. No, this measly breakfast entry had to go a long way, and the omelet had to be earmarked because he’d made it. No man had ever taken the time or the effort to do something so thoughtful and generous, no man had ever thought to treat her so wonderfully. Most men had taken her for granted, taken advantage of her abuse of alcohol and used her beauty for their own personal gain, but Silver failed to do any of that, and he’d had every possible opportunity. No, there was something genuine about Silver, something she couldn’t quite understand and it was beginning to mean the world to her. It was just unfortunate that he had to be twice her age, her boss, and devastatingly unattainable. 

“This...this was amazing...” She nodded, smiling at him sheepishly, her hazel eyes twinkling with gratitude. The child in her, incredibly full of glee and pure appreciation. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“That, Beautiful...that’s an embarrassing secret I’ll be taking to the grave unfortunately...” He sighed with a cheeky grin, rolling his eyes to the back of his head, as he flipped his hand over hers, tapping it gently. Terry was a fantastic liar, bordering on the pathological, but this was the furthest from a lie. He’d picked up cooking after the war, when he was alone and when the tremendous success he had now was nowhere to be seen. It was an horrendous time in his life, a harrowing instance, he wanted to forget and never speak of again. “Now how’s about we go find something a little more comfortable for you to slip into hmm?” He nodded, maintaining that marvelous smile, and rapidly changing the subject; yet another task he excelled in.

“Good idea...think I’ll ruin it if I keep it on for much longer.” She chuckled with a deep sigh, a little annoyed at his refusal to share, but also rather understanding of it. People kept things private, it was the way of the world, and someone like Silver who you could possibly read about in the papers if you really wanted to, couldn’t possibly be an exception to that. He was human, and humans had their secrets. It wasn’t really her place to pry.

“You couldn’t ruin it if you tried...” He shook his head with eyes piercing through her frame, his breath nearly escaping from his lungs, as he meandered around the island to meet her. She was damaged, a wreck of emotions, and a disaster, but my god was she beguiling. He was to dangle her at his side like a puppet on a string and resort her to nothingness because it was fun, but he couldn’t deny the raw beauty about her. She was exquisite, and every time he took a better look, the more mystified he became, and the more excited to link her to his chain. He’d chosen her and to feel this way, was as self centered and self absorbed a thing as it could be. “It looks as stunning on you now as it did last night...Margaret’s last hurrah...”

Speechless, she was speechless. Again he’d left her without words, mute to any response, her brain impossibly numb. It was strange how an ex-soldier who’d seen such death and destruction, could be so sweet and gentle, a little absurd how a man who had such wealth could be so selfless, but he’d captured her aching spirit and it tortured her. Life thus far, had proven that a show of humility and affection, wasn’t a sign of love. Harrowing past experiences had shown the dangers of such misinterpretation, yet like a recovering drug addict denying they had a problem upon their fourth relapse, Claudia refused to believe there was anything wrong or foolish about her mindset. 

“Come...lets go...” He urged, smiling warmly and tilting his head towards the hall, fingers scratching at his bare chest. “Should be something in the dojo...” He shrugged, biting his lip and holding back his eagerness and delight, the outfit clearly planned in his head.

Alright, She mouthed, barely able to react like a lost animal, and followed just behind him, her heart pounding as she watched his body grow perhaps more alluring with every step. If this man was off limits, against the law to appreciate, to love and necessary to let go, then every bone in his shifting body and nature itself was making it utterly difficult to do so. Terry Silver was like the crisp apple in the Garden of Eden and nature was Satan tempting her to take a bite, only to condemn her to sin and she couldn’t damn well stand it. The manic push and pull was just that hard to take. 

“Wait here...I’ll get it, it’ll just be a second...” He insisted, turning on the balls of his feet to face her, before entering the makeshift dojo, his hand pausing in mid air and keeping her from taking another step forward. “Its high up in the closet, don’t want to cause you any harm...” He nodded with yet another grin, this time riddled with derision. There was nothing high up in the closet but old kicking bags and busted gloves, he didn’t have the heart to part with, but in the corner shelf there was a gee, a fresh white gee two sizes too small with Cobra Kai printed at the back. An order in error, from the time when a stable Cobra Kai dojo didn’t exist and he’d instructed Kreese to use that very space to train his growing batch of students. “Here, I know it’s not much but I’m certain it’ll fit...” He nodded with assurance, doing his best to hide a grin most shameless, as he handed her the karate uniform; an odd choice of course, but one he was desperately and deviously proud of. 

A crisp white robe, a karate outfit...Jesus Christ it was an impossible pick and an awkward one at that, but seeing as there was no other choice nor the time to go home and grab a nice pair of jeans and maybe one of Janet’s blazers, she’d have to make it work. When he’d said “there might be something in the dojo”, she had been too far gone in her thoughts and feelings, that she hadn’t considered the possibility of being offered a karate uniform of all things, and now she felt incredibly stupid. 

“I don’t know...but I guess I’ll make do...” She replied with a deflated sigh, looking down at the pile of rough trimmed cotton staring up at her. This was horrendous and more of a fashion nightmare than Janet’s suit, but desperate times called for desperate measures as it were. 

“I am sorry darlin’, there really isn’t anything else...Aside from Margaret, there hasn’t been another woman in here in a long time...” He frowned, shrugging in false grief and sighing sadly without much of a conscience, while his heart danced about in his chest like a shaman overjoyed with the coming of the rain. If there was ever a performance worthy of a Best Actor in a Drama Golden Globe, this would surely be the one.

“It’s alright...I mean, once I have a good shower, I don’t think it’ll matter...” She said, making excuses for this problematic wardrobe change, if only because of the despondency in his crystal blue eyes. 

“Oh yes that...maybe the shower will help, it’s down there, first door on the left...” He pointed down the hall with an index, leaning hard against the door frame. “There’s a fresh towel on the rack, and if there’s anything else you’ll need, please....please don’t hesitate to ask...” He came to insist with a click of his tongue, and a grin forming at his jaw that was nearly in line with that of the Cheshire cat, but discreet enough to go unnoticed.


	11. Chapter 11

Hands clenched around the wrapped and bound gee, the silver dress burning a hole against her flesh, she made her way into the bathroom; an enlarged space of black marble and alabaster stone. Against her bare, aching feet that alabaster felt like a gift from God, like finding a cool stream at the end of an arduous trek through the desert. It was wonderful, glorious and brought much relief from the hangover still raging through her body, but it did nothing to calm the complicated feelings ripping through her soul. His kindness, his warmth, and imparted generosity was unlike any other she’d ever encountered. No man she’d ever known, aside from Frank when he wasn’t drinking or battling stress, had ever cradled her grief nor taken care of her, the way Terry seemed to and it drove her lambs to the slaughter. The idea of a man, of his stature and beauty no less, pampering her, when she’d spent her entire life doing so for others, was unreal and it did everything to crumble her heart to pieces. Yet the sweet devastation, failed to stop there. The weight of his indulgence of her, and his clemency, stretched as far as the sacred space between her legs. It was unusual and indeed foreign, but the goodness he’d shown her in just above twenty-four hours, made her crave him, want him in ways his gallant and devastatingly refined body, couldn’t possibly manage. 

Slithering the glitzy dress off her firm skin, and flipping it neatly upon the barren wrack, she turned to face herself in the mirror and what she took in, made her grin almost deviously. She was glowing amidst all the chaos and dread of starting a new job; a thing she’d allowed herself to consciously forget, and she had half a mind to believe that it was all due to the bit of confidence Silver had given her. Those long legs she had a hard time admiring, those breasts she felt were too small and lacking in shape, looked sublime and suddenly she was both impressed with herself and incredibly warm to the touch. Without conscious thought and overcome with something inexplicably larger then life, fingers shaken but more or less confident, slipped between black lace and supple flesh. Could she do this here? Was it wrong? Perhaps, but Claudia was no longer governed by a conscience, but burgeoning love for the sweetness of a man otherwise forbidden. Emitting a soft breath with kohl lined eyes shut, and a quixotic smile parting at lips still smeared with last night’s rouge, her index journeyed through peaceful territory never properly charted. Men, had tried many times to venture in, some in drunken escapades and brief awkward liaisons, but none had managed to unearth her and unleash the great river of pleasure within. Thoughts of the improbable, however, of Silver holding her in his arms intimately and telling her that everything would be okay, visions of his masculine frame gliding and heaving against hers, while shapely lips whispered their I love yous into her ear, had the ability and the power to make those waters flow.

Reaching for the edge of the sink, her heart beating rapidly in a rhythm most poetic, and her mind running only upon wonderous thoughts of him, her finger had come to finally discover the region where ecstasy lay ready and willing. As the gentle strokes of her exploratory finger grew more feverish and the thoughts of him more manic. She could feel the breath in her smoker’s lungs sifting violently, her hand tensing against polished marble but she felt no pain, only the workings of pleasure. He was in the vicinity of this, in the other room perhaps and they were tinkering on precious time, yet all that failed to matter when there was such heat blustering inside of her. Such vehemence and passion for a man who was untouchable, was ill advised but in the moment she could care less. She couldn’t be bothered with feelings of indecency over the act, that would surely generate insomnia that night, when she was stumbling out of her head from the less than subtle flip of her finger against her clit. And suddenly there it was without warning, like a maddening blast of a volcano that had been otherwise dormant for ages. Her body shuddered, her eyes split open to the ceiling in unabashed rapture and the only word that seemed to depart from quivering lips wasn’t a word at all, but a name. Terry...Terry Silver.


	12. Chapter 12

Like any livin’, breathin’, hot-blooded male, Terry Silver adored women, only his brand of admiration was always a little intense and perhaps a little demented. Terry fancied what women had to offer by way of body language and looks, loved to flirt and enjoyed sex, but he was almost never interested in love. He’d unearthed love once, true love, but the pain had left him fractured enough to steer clear of the feeling and the concept forever. Never again would he dare to harbor anything for a woman but pure lust. Fuck em’, use em’ up till they can’t get enough, drain them of their sanity and move on to the next, that was the motto, and women of every shape and size, were susceptible to this madness. For Terry Silver, women were delicious conquests, objects to dominate and drive towards obsession, till they wanted nothing but to be near him and only him. Everything was about power and control, and because Claudia was taboo to capture, it would be done up to the extreme. 

Tucked away in his study or the master office as he often liked to call it, Terry sought to make his own costume change to level the playing field. The black gee, it was perfect, it was ideal and so neatly pressed to his liking. Dressing in near identical fashion to her, would not only make things less awkward for her, but more importantly it gave the impression that he considered her an equal, despite the color. Black was reserved for the rank of master, sensei, but he was inclined to believe she wouldn’t know the difference. Chuckling silently to himself in an almost arrogant manner, he shrugged off the kimono baring his naked flesh to a room full of imported furniture and a window to the outside world, careless about being seen. When one had chiseled pectorals, lean abdominal muscles achieved with focus and determination, and gluts exercised to perfection, one simply wanted the whole of the world to take notice. Terry Silver didn’t just have it all, he was a God among men.

Standing with his prized black belt set in it’s official knot, he tossed the expensive Okinawan kimono aside like last night’s garbage, oblivious to where it fell, and proceeded to make that leave of absence call to Margaret. Yet before he could get so much as an obnoxious dial tone, his eyes fell on a sight for sore eyes. Clean and smelling of his musk and vanilla cleanser, her hair still rather damp from the shower, she was a captivating vision. The gee fit her poorly, tied disinterestedly at the waist and showing no sign of respect to what it stood for, but it somehow heightened his arousal and played with his senses. “Looks to me like the shower worked...you look wonderful, so relaxed...” He nodded with a tilt of his head, glossing over her and sliding his mouth into a twinkling grin. She was glowing like a mother did after childbirth, loosened and ecstatic, and it did everything to please him.

“It...it was just right...” She sighed, biting her lip into a sheepish smile, every inch of her nearly tingling at his words and observant glance. There was no way he could have known what she’d done, no chance in hell, but it sure felt like it, judging by his dialogue, and she couldn’t keep from growing a little crimson at her cheeks. “You um...you always dress like that to work?” She asked with a curious lift of here brow, finally noticing the same bit of clothing on his back, as she moved to take a seat, her nerves slowly returning to wreak havoc. The same outfit...really? It seemed strange, but in an odd way comforting, thinking she’d surely feel less awkward this way, despite the fact that his gee was all worn in and he’d had experience moving around in it. In any case, she felt at ease knowing she wouldn’t be alone in the absurdity. 

“Not usually no...but for you, yes...see we at DynaTox, take the comfort of our employees, our guests very seriously...” He assured, gliding towards her till he hovered just above, his hand darting to her shoulder and squeezing tenderly at rigid cotton. He could feel here tremble beneath his palm, her skin and bones nearly squirming, and he could tell that significant damage had already been done. A women tingling and quaking in his presence regardless of whether he was the true cause, was a good woman, the right woman. “Making you feel good is of the highest priority...I want you to be happy here Claudia, working for me, with me...Do you think you can be?” He inquired, gazing deep into her eyes with a grin of genuine care and interest, the edge of his thumb nearly grazing at peeking flesh. These extra theatrics were rather unnecessary, seeing as her body was already quivering from his touch, but he needed her word. He needed her trust, and he couldn’t rely solely on the convulsing frame and the delight he felt, to prove he had it.

“Y...yes...” She murmured breathlessly, biting even harder at her lip, feeling her skin burn against his grip. “I can....” She nodded blankly to clarify, her eyes transfixed by that unwavering, eager expression upon his handsome visage. The kind of wonderous look of appreciation and genuine need she’d been without for far too long. He wanted her, wanted her to feel warm, protected and safe, and that felt better than any orgasm she could bring upon herself. Having an employer that troubled himself over her feelings, her well being was a card she’d never been dealt and for that, she’d do anything.

“That’s what I like to hear...I like it a lot Macleod...I like it a lot.” He nodded with a look of sincere thankfulness and interest, sedating his need to know and holding a bit of his euphoria at the trigger, not wanting to waste it just yet. “Now we can get started I should think...” He smiled, pulling his hand away from her shoulder to slip a spiral-bound notebook in her lap and take a seat just inches from her, having the last word as usual.


	13. Chapter 13

“What this for?” She cooed in a soft breath, still reeling from his touch as she lifted the large spiral notebook from her lap, and flipped through page upon page of names, phone numbers and addresses. There had to have been at least two hundred or more listed neatly, and almost immediately, Claudia began to realize just how expansive his company was and how immensely popular a man like Terry Silver was, in order to maintain all of this. It looked like categorized and alphabetized madness bound in metal and laminate, and the confusion over its purpose was enough to exhaust her already.   
“Every year DynaTox hosts a party for all its major clients, so for your first assignment you will be planning that party, and that book in your hands Darling, is the bible. Lose it and we’re damn well screwed, believe me Margaret’s been there and it’s no picnic.” He replied with pursed lips and a tilt of his head, blue eyes imparting a discreet glance at her lips instead. Like the petals of a rose after rainfall, her lips looked soft to the touch and like the most decadent of desserts to taste. As though they were a completely new sight to behold, he sat back in awe and began to wonder what it would be like to kiss them roughly, to have them wrapped around the shaft of his cock, suckling at hardened flesh while he grabbed a fist full of her hair in maddening ecstasy. To devour them and be devoured by them, sounded like a dream, a slice of heaven, thrilling like one of those wild acid trips in Vietnam, and he had it in the cards to make it happen.   
“I...I understand, and so do we invite everybody or just a handful? Cause this seems like a heck of a lot...” She sighed honestly, feeling a touch overwhelmed already, as she scanned the book even further. It wouldn’t be like any party she was used to, the only one’s being Frank’s annual surprise birthday and her very own, to which people rarely came. Claudia had pushed most of her friends away with her tendency to go overboard with the liquor, wanting to decompress from the burden of caring for an ailing Frank and working the night shift at the bar, and naturally invitations were often declined. No one would reject an invitation to the kind of party Silver would have, however that was for certain. Without question, it would have to be the most lavish of affairs, and spared of no expense on food, drink or entertainment no less.   
“Everybody...it’s the highlight of everyone’s year...couldn’t possibly leave anyone out...” He exclaimed with a lift of his brow and a shake of the head, and shifted against black leather to get a bit closer to her. “And this time around, I’m thinking...masquerade....” He cooed with widened, grinning eyes that continued to fixate upon her appetizing mouth, body a little too close for comfort, but just as he wanted to be.   
“M...masquerade...but won’t that...” She gasped subtly, unable to complete her sentence, realizing his proximity, feeling a thousand pangs of sweat attacking her spine all at once. He’d broken the invisible barrier between them, leaving her open and vulnerable to almost any course of action, and she couldn’t claim that, that didn’t both frighten and excite her simultaneously. “But won’t that make things difficult for us, for the guests, with the masks, I mean?” She continued but almost barely, feeling the weight of his glance and that forward unwavering grin that never ceased to put her on edge.   
“Mmm but you see that’s what makes it thrilling, makes it fun...some of those stiffs could use a bit of that...” He hummed with a brief chuckle and a loose shrug, eyes piercing through hers with indescribable and impenetrable hunger. “And as far as we’re concerned, I could pick you out from a thousand covered faces...” He sighed with a warm grin, masking a lustful click of his tongue, hand drifting towards the edge of her face, fingers slithering towards the lips he’d been coveting for a few minutes too long. “This jaw...these lips...they couldn’t hide from me if they tried...” He cooed as his fingers met her plump lips, rough skin from one too many gloveless fights colliding with flesh as smooth as he’d imagined. “You excite me Claudia, you fill me with an energy that I can’t explain, and I’m not ashamed to say that I lied to you. Yes, I needed a new secretary, but my need to be near you was much stronger than that, and that’s why I offered you the job...” He mused, nodding with exaggerated sincerity and warmth, lifting her mouth closer to his and delighting in that bewildered look on her face.  
“You fired Margaret so you could be near me? But...I...I can’t...” She murmured softly in agonizing protest, barely able to keep herself composed with her face cradled so delicately in his hands. War was raging inside between guilt over Margaret’s sacking and that immense desire for him, that exact breed of unfiltered infatuation that drove her to sin in the privacy of his washroom, but with this tender near loving touch of his hand, that guilt so quickly surrendered. She felt rather horrible and ashamed about that poor woman, not knowing a thing about her aside from having excellent taste in formal clothing, but all that seemed to vanish without a trace, for the near intoxicating feel of his flesh against hers.   
“Shh, forget about that, forget about Margaret for right now...let me take you away, I need you Claudia...” He nodded in whispers of overwrought desperation, putting the edge of his finger to her lip to forbid resistance; a thing which seemed almost impossible now, and slammed his lips against hers, his hand running madly through her wet scalp.


	14. Chapter 14

Gripping roughly at the cross-section of his gee in subtle alarm, she tried to object to what was happening, almost like Custard’s last stand, but with the slightest taste of his mouth, she so quickly flattened her hand and gave up. The sweetness, the warmth rushed through her body like wildfire ripping through a dry, desolate canyon, leaving everything in its wake in nothing but ash. All consciousness and focus upon the work was lost, and suddenly she found herself falling into him with the weight of her entire frame, her own mouth returning the gesture at full force, without reservation. Like a seasoned ballet dancer, his tongue committed to a hungered routine with hers, and it only seemed to inflame her body’s need to match his intensity, his power. Left to their own devices, spry fingers slipped through his gee, dragging her fingertips against his firm flesh, feeling the blood surging rapidly through her veins with every manic caress.  
“Let me...let me do this...” He insisted with a loose moan and a grin, reluctantly pausing to pull his mouth from hers, and gently slid her hand away from the coarse and unforgiving fabric. With eyes focused intently upon hers, he slithered his powerful hands over his shoulders and slipped the gee off effortlessly, revealing the sublime anatomy she’d already confirmed in her head. Every inch of his torso, and even the most insignificant of parts, like his snug navel, captivated her senses, aroused her to no end, and without a minute’s notice, she slithered her hands up to where they’d previously been. Yet before she could continue with her starved caress; the dutiful admiration of his taut form, she felt the static of his hand upon hers once more.  
“I think two need to play this game, Darlin...take this off...” He hummed, nodding his head with a subtle near invisible lick of his lip, sliding her hand towards her covered shoulder. He’d shown her what he possessed and now like show and tell, it was her turn, and he relished in the thought of what glory he’d find underneath that atrociously wrapped mess of a uniform.  
Without so much as a word in reply, though both heart and mind whined shamelessly against this subtle demand, she did as she was told. She wanted to touch him again almost desperately, but in truth she had to be fair, she couldn’t leave him hanging when he’d been so open with her. Linking her eyes with his, feeling her entire body shivering with a mix fear and thrill, she tugged the white belt free from her waist and dropped the gee from thin shoulders, leaving herself bare and vulnerable to his whims.  
Shifting his mouth into a heated grin, feeling every inch of his soul and his manhood burn with blatant zeal, he inched forward and drew his knee upon the couch, getting as close as possible. Feeling her anxious breath surrounding him and enlarging his ego, he slithered his hand down the crack between her breasts and hooked his finger upon the center clasp of her bra, sliding it down to her navel expertly. Erect, voluptuous, and exposed to him and him alone, her breasts were a complete marvel of science and nature combined. Every bone in his body tickled with glee, every pleasure zone seemed to burst into flames and passing on the chance to touch her immediately, had the capacity of being a crime against humanity.  
“Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?” He hissed passionately, dragging the edge of his finger over and under her breasts, appreciating the soft, pink areolas colliding with his rough flesh.  
“Never, not until now...” She lied, emitting a soft near tortured moan, when his finger circled painstakingly close and slow against her nipples. She’d been referred to as beautiful once, yet it had been a brazen lie from a drunkard just to get into her pants and it had torn her apart. She had no way of knowing whether Silver was only saying so because they were exploring one another vividly, but the adjective felt authentic coming from him and it drove her up the wall with pure, near violent bliss. She could feel her soul capsizing beneath her flesh, her heart ripping through her chest viciously and if she could sob out loud without embarrassment, she would do so almost instantly. If the unhinged arousal burgeoning fiercely within, could contain itself: could hang on for even a second a more, she’d be wallowing in a flailing mess of gut-wrenched emotion.  
“Fuck me...” She begged like she’d never wanted anything more out of life, like she was an inmate on death row making a last request to a tyrannical warden before execution, and drew her oscillating palm to his hand. To have her body violated by his sweet adoration, till she could no longer breathe nor have another man’s name slip from her lips, would be like heaven on earth. “Just fuck me...” She repeated with a look of unflinching need, driving his hand to the base of her belly, grasping hard at the tears she feared she couldn’t properly restrain for much longer.


	15. Chapter 15

Fuck me...the words hit him like a bullet penetrating the brain and that face...god that needy, desperate face...was everything he could ever ask for. A pretty, young damaged thing, begging for it, for him to take her to heaven and back, was like something straight out of a wet dream and it set his entire muscle bound frame ablaze. The whole scenario was a cliché, a pulpy, Penthouse magazine cliché, and he was better than that, but damn if he cared. She was throwing her pathetic, broken self at his feet, like she was a lowly thief with her life on the line, and he the ever merciful pharaoh, from whom she needed a pardon for her crimes. There was no mercy in Cobra Kai, and he was Cobra Kai, but for this, ole’ Terry Silver would make the exception.

“I thought you’d never ask...” He hummed in a temperate moan, miming a solemn, equally needy expression, and flipping his lips over hers, tasting her sweet nectar once again. “God I want you...want you so bad it tortures me...” He grinned into her mouth with eyes shut, adding to the glittering performance of a desperate man in love, as he grabbed a hold of her waist, slithering his hands over her sides madly. His desire for her was raging, there was no question of that, but he’d be damned if it had anything to do with true romance. Fingers raced over her tanned flesh like a madman running through a fire, no longer as soft and gentle, but nearly feral. His mouth slipped from her lips, to her neck, then down to her breasts, suckling and nibbling like a ravenous animal now that he’d been given the chance, if anything to show just how starved for love he pretended to be. Her body quivered beneath him with every exaggerated touch, her own fingers clutched roughly at his hair as if hanging for dear life, and immediately he knew she was lost to any world that was that of Terry Silver. 

“I think I...I’m in love with you Terry Silver...” She moaned frantically with a snarl, eyes fluttering backwards as his teeth snapped against her nipple, her body tensing inwards in sheer bliss. Such a statement was brash, said to soon, but it couldn’t be helped either way. Her feelings were raw, and her thoughts unguarded, having achieved what felt like the improbable, and nothing could prevent her from expressing herself. Naturally, a part of her felt like she was making a mistake by this admission, blurted out with such manic conviction, but if this turn of events was proof of anything, it was that he felt something more than pure lust for her, and perhaps wouldn’t shun her for speaking her mind, even if it was too soon. 

I think I’m in Love with you...dear Christ, there it was...that flustering clip of phrase that was nothing and usually meant nothing. When he’d heard it from any other woman and at any other place in time, it had been a source of disgust, but in the moment it failed to have the same effect. Coming from the likes of her, despite being of no real surprise, it moved him like some tearful sonata, and was so befitting to the plot. Knowing that her feelings were so strong, so deeply vivid, made keeping her clipped to his side and under his thumb, as easy as ever.

“Mmm can’t begin...can’t begin to describe what I feel for you...” He groaned wildly, looking up at her with eyes open and grinning shamelessly as he lowered his mouth against her chest once more. The semantics and diction of these words were textbook and worthy of being taught in schools, and for the taste of her temperate flesh, the feel of her body on fire, and so close to his, he’d say just about anything. Any lie was good enough to tell, especially now, seeing as she’d developed unyielding feelings for him so quickly and wanted him so badly. Terry Silver was in for the kill, and for that, he’d rip the moon out of the night sky and hand it to her on a silver plate if he could. “Now lay back and let me show you...let me take care of you...” He urged breathlessly, flashing a bit of that candor she’d seemingly fallen in love with, while his hands set her down on the couch, her bare skin kissing soft black leather.

Laying on her back and dragging her knuckles over his bare arms, her hazel eyes full of love, somehow failed to peeve him and made his need to bring her to her ruin that much stronger, more frenzied if at all possible. Nearly sweating from every pore, with his eyes fixed on her like a hunter did it’s prey, his mind set upon this sudden upgrade in desire, he curled his hands over the elastic waistline of her gee and nudged it off with little to know effort, like he’d done it a million times before. Tossing it aside with a callous smirk, eyeing her silently heaving chest, he arched himself above her and kissed his way down the brim of black lace; the last thing left standing between innocence and corruption.


	16. Chapter 16

His beautiful mouth, his sultry lips and the way they moved through her warm, soft cunt, as though they’d done so a thousand times before, was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. He knew where to go, and where to turn to make her squirm and convulse against the fine imported couch, and she could feel inches of her soul shedding it’s skin. Every lap was more corrosive then the next, killing her inch by inch, making her heart pound in her chest. The more he tasted, the more he explored the more indigent she became, and likewise the harder she jerked upon his scalp. Never in her life, had she felt such a thrill, such a pleasurable, throbbing sensation than in that moment and she was intent on drowning in it for as long as possible. 

“I want to be inside you....” He hissed, lifting his head from beneath her, drying his lips with the back of his hand, expression blank but eyes crazed like an unsatisfied animal, famished for something bigger. She tasted like nothing else, sweet and unbelievable, but to have her implode now, would feel like a waste, and so it was better to get to the main event, to commit to the greatest of carnal sins. She wanted to be properly ravished, she’d repeated that desire more than once, and he was going to do her one better. Terry Silver was going to fling her into oblivion, send her to a place she couldn’t return from on two feet, somewhere that made even crawling a difficult thing to do. 

Nodding in a mess of sweat, she watched with eager eyes as he stood on his feet, like a colossus with the afternoon sun highlighting his strong abdomen, free of the slightest scar or battle wound, and slipped what was left of the gee from his body, revealing a manhood that would make any man proud. Hovering over her, hard and solid, he was an Adonis, in every way, shape and form, and inside her seethed the desire to capsize in the wake of him. 

“Shift to the center Beautiful...” He urged, nodding with a deep breath and a sweltering grin, inching closer to her, eyes admiring those luscious breasts of which he’d had the pleasure of tasting and certainly would again. Sliding forward even further, as soon as she’d done what she was told, he slipped his hands between her legs, feeling at such divine heat, that made his own flesh burn. It was glorious and it only made the anticipation of exploding within her and claiming his territory that much greater. Shivering with this power, this sense of dominance over her, he pressed down hard against the back of her thighs and thrust himself deep within, neglecting to give her a chance to react. In the face of something he desperately craved, Terry Silver attacked without warning; a trick he learned in the cutthroat world of business and perhaps the reason why he identified with slithering beasts over all the creatures in the world


	17. Chapter 17

A manic, unwavering force to be reckoned with, was how she’d come to describe Terry Silver, as she felt her entire body flinch against the abrupt push of his manhood, her head knocking back with moans she couldn’t begin to fight if she wanted to. Typically, this was the kind of thing she couldn’t really stand, couldn’t make sense of: men being rough in the act of making love, when love was meant to be tender and beautiful, yet with Terry she didn’t seem to mind it. In a strange way, neither her heart, her mind nor her body seemed to keep themselves from accepting it, tolerating it and considering it entirely as a release of his passions. Call it being naïve to what love was really about or being hell-bent on the idea of someone treating her like she was worthy of it, but as he continued to press into her in frenzied waves, she found herself willing to disregard the aggression. To her, it seemed like every erratic gyration, every maddening bit of movement, was a display of how strong his feelings really were and how much this premature, inexplicable romance could possibly weigh upon his mind.  
Strike fast, strike hard and no mercy, this was the motto to which Terry Silver came to live and breathe. It defined his evolution, his business practice and how he dealt with a variety of problems, but it certainly didn’t end there. This straightforward lick of advice he’d gotten, albeit from the wicked man who trained both him and Kreese, served to dictate how he operated during sex. It wasn’t appropriate with every woman, when most wanted to be coaxed into things with elongated and loving foreplay, but Terry paid little attention to that. Terry Silver did what Terry Silver wanted to do, whenever he wanted to, and on his own terms. The same applied to Claudia naturally but now that he’d romanced her enough to control her he'd let it slide.  
“You’re so warm, so wet, every inch of you is something else...” He snarled in a breathy moan, dragging his hands to her gaping jaw, and running his fingers over her mouth, his cock still thrusting diligently and relentlessly into her. Her cunt was divine, the skin luscious and moist, there was no lie in that, but it wasn’t really like him to acknowledge it. Terry Silver didn’t dish out compliments, unless there was a prospective business transaction involved and never to a woman, but Claudia wasn’t just any woman, she was one loaded with endless opportunity. She was willing to give in to him, fall for this false display of love and in time, his deviance.  
Crumbling deliciously at his words, void of her consciousness and nearly groaning from the belligerent pummeling of her sacred place, she longed for a taste of his flesh and went for it without reservation. She hooked her lips around the fingers still gliding over her mouth, and suckled upon them with a kind of seduction almost foreign to her. Her tongue tingled at the roughness, the coarseness, but it was devoid of any pain, making her moan in pleasure and crave him all the more.  
Oh this was new, a different side of her for sure, attempting to strike at his senses, his arousal and he couldn’t say he disliked it. No, it was spectacular and he felt honored, even touched by the gesture, not thinking, but knowing that he was the driving force behind it. Terry had no qualms about women inciting a reaction from him, in fact he often implored them to do so within limits, but this situation wasn’t quite the same. There was devotion, pure admiration in her peering glance as she fed upon his finger, and it flung his manhood towards the point of ecstasy.  
“You slaughter me Beautiful, and I’m old, gotta be careful with an old man...” He warned with a lift of his brow and a deep heaving pant, sliding his palm up against the back of the couch, pumping harder into her than before.  
“T...That you telling me you love me then, old man?” She mused with her new found courage, smirking, as she pulled his finger from between her lips and lifted her own hand to his mouth, her body coiling closer towards that little death.  
“Maybe...” He groaned against her fingers, mining a sheepish grin, as sweat shifted out of every pore, and traded her hand for her lips. “Most definitely...” He lied in a low growl at the edge of her wet mouth, losing himself to the now rabid, throbbing sensation between his legs. He was inching nearer to that coveted, highly anticipated bit of rapture, and he could feel the earth nearly splitting beneath his bare feet. A wondrous commotion; a superb feeling he wouldn’t sell for anything else in the world. Terry Silver wasn’t in love with this woman, no not at all. Terry Silver was in every way, infatuated with the excitement she was able to produce.  
Feeling the ache in his manhood grow stronger and more potent, he shifted forward with all his weight, grabbing a firm hold of her backside and suddenly there it was in its unspeakable glory. With her legs clenching violently against his thighs, her mouth rounding off in a near euphoric gasp and his nails digging deep into the soft perspiring flesh of her ass, they imploded together in harmony; in synchronized rhapsody. Crossing the boundary line between employee and employer, and shattering the very foundation of right and wrong.


	18. Chapter 18

Coming into paradise, exhausted, with legs numb and buckling, she fell upon him, heart enamored and satisfied with this unsullied rapture. Their bodies, young and old, aligned with sweat and still tingling against one another, like they belonged, was something she could have never imagined. She’d fantasized being with him, that much was true, but she hadn’t pictured the scenario turning out quite like this. Never was there even the slightest thought or inkling that this stoic billionaire, who had everything in the world, would want her just the same and with the same exact fervor. “I guess this means Margaret's’ getting her old job back...” She laughed tenderly, wrapping her arms around his strapping frame, thoroughly amused with herself. Claudia wasn’t much of a kidder, and every joke she told triggered crickets and flushed her with shame. This one-liner bordered upon the lame and the infantile, but sitting there feeling his heart, beating sharply against her bare chest she could procure a million more just like it without the slightest kick of humiliation.

“Not a chance...Not a chance in hell. I promised to give it to you and I never go back on my word....” He assured with a distracted grin, sliding his hand underneath her chin and nudging her lips closer to his. “regardless of how I feel about the person I’m promising a certain something to...” He mused with a brief chuckle and a shift of his lips over hers, fingers rummaging through her hair. “We’ll work something out...I need you”. He urged sincerely, sighing loosely, as he drew his lips away from hers if only for a moment. “I need you here, in my life Claudia, and I’m not changing my mind...” He nodded with pure conviction, gazing deeply into her eyes, and fighting back a smirk dipped in mischief and malevolence.

“Then this is me giving you my word Mr. Silver...” She crooned with a sultry lift of her brow, dragging her palms up his muscle bound chest, nearly squealing from the warmth of his flesh. To say she liked his body would be a downright lie and an absolute mistake, she adored it with every bone in her aching body and that restless spirit.

“Love the sound of that...” He hissed, kissing her madly and slithering his hands to her hips, fingers reveling in the sweet burn of that sweat clinging to them. “Just don’t call me Mister.” He growled lowly, biting down hard at her lower lip as if to punish her for the given title, but more so to hear her moan. Like the creatures Bram Stoker spoke of in his fateful book, which he’d read cover to cover if only for the darkness within, her pipes made such beautiful music. Only it rang and echoed with a kind of beauty that didn’t necessarily serenade him to tranquility, but made his body quake with lust and more importantly, his ego implode deliciously upon itself. 

“Mmm okay...” She whispered in a groan that settled somewhere between pain and pleasure, pounding at his bare chest with the base of her palm in jest. “My apologies Terry, Terry Silver, how can I make it better?” She purred, pursing her lips and pouting like a child not getting their way, her tone and demeanor shifting for the seductive, slithering her palm down to his lower abdomen, caressing his firm flesh along the way. This change was abrupt and almost bizarre to some degree, but it seemed like Terry Silver dragged a different breed of animal out from under her; a feral beast more love starved than ever before and willing to do just about anything he wanted and be whomever he needed her to be.

“Oh I can’t count the ways Beautiful...” He hissed with a maddening click of his tongue, nearly biting down hard at it’s prickly flesh, as he grabbed softly at her wrist. He wanted her hand to venture there. No scratch that, he craved for her fingers to take hold of him, and flare up the cycle of debauchery once more, but naturally, he feared the idea of swallowing up everything too quickly and too soon. Claudia Macleod was a luxury, a giving prize that only came once in a lifetime and to drain her of everything she had to offer in one sitting, well, that would be the act of an idiot. “But work calls, the duty to my clients...calls.” He hummed with a deep sigh, revealing just enough regret to be taken seriously as a man preserving his lover’s sanctity and not one trying to keep his perversions at bay. “Maybe you can join me for dinner...and don’t worry, I’ll get you something better to wear...” He grinned, letting go of her wrist and highlighting her body with a curve of his hand, chin hinting at the gee sprawled around her.

“Hmm you cooking?” She smirked, lifting her brow curiously, her arms circling around his neck, fingers flicking haphazardly at the end of his ponytail, admiring its feathery texture, ignoring the bit about another dress. It just didn’t seem all that important when she held his dark brown hair between her fingertips. Hair, it was never anything special, never a trait she considered important of any man, but his, whether fashioned loose or wound up tight, was a spectacle to behold and to be infatuated with. It was madness, but even the pliable quality of an ultimately regular thing like his hair, was something to love, to treasure and to find pleasure in touching. Every inch of him no matter how big or how small, every bit of his persona, was becoming everything to her, beginning to mean so much, and she could care less about the rate at which it was all happening. Terry Silver wasn’t a man one could fall for slowly, one fell fast and fell hard, and a part of her knew that the second she’d laid eyes on him. Terry was devastatingly gorgeous, full of captivating charm and stellar in the art of sex, but above all that he was a man who could make a lowly woman feel worthy of the world, and it didn’t take much.

“No...for this I need something a bit more, I don't know, painstakingly prepared and maybe special, for you...” He mused in a collected breath, nodding with a twinkling smile, running his hands over her delicate arms. Touching her this way, being loving and tender, was uncharacteristic, surreal and bewildering but it was both intrinsically and strategically crucial. No longer was there anything to prove, he had her unfiltered devotion and he’d manipulated her well enough, but a bit more romancing and relentless wooing, would surely do more good than harm, and that’s all that really mattered. After all who’d ever really heard of too much coaxing and buttering up of a lover, causing any massive damage? NO ONE. Pretending to be the dutiful, beloved boyfriend wasn’t easy, it was uncomfortable. The act itself had him reaching out of his element and felt rather painful, but he knew the end result would be worth its weight in gold, and for that he’d put on any kind of ridiculous show. “You’re wonderful, you’re lovely, the stuff of dreams, Beautiful, and you deserve everything...everything I can give you.” He nodded, maintaining severe eye contact, as he kissed sweetly along the edge of her hand, her arms still hanging about his neck. 

“Honored...I’m honored…” She replied with a tilted smile and a bite of her lip, feeling the ugly nibbling moths in her stomach evolve into fluttering butterflies, as she watched him intently, his lips ever so comforting against her flesh. She was still a little nervous, a little on edge, but it wasn’t like before. Her apprehension and anxiety wasn’t over his approval, his acceptance or being the right man for a job, it was about what was to come next; what other splendored thrills Terry Silver held up his sleeve. It was selfish and merciless, when Janet needed the help and worked double shifts, but the job, the money didn’t matter all of a sudden and goddamn it, she wanted this! She needed this. She’d spent what felt like an eternity doing the right thing, doing everything for other people, putting their needs first instead of hers and frankly she was a little fed up with it. Here was an unlikely man, a princely man, giving her something she’d only ever encountered in dreams, and she wasn’t going to lose sight of that. Terry was going to take care of her, she had his word and she was going to put all her faith in that, risk everything if need be and forget about the financial ruin her life had become, if only for a little while. 

“You’ve made me a very happy man, Claudia Macleod…” He smiled with that million watt grin, miming complete, unadulterated joy, as he pulled her away from his neck and wrapped his arms around her body, pressing her bare chest against his skin again. “Very happy…” He hummed, kissing her quickly, but with the same zest and passion he’d utilized before. It wasn’t enough to convey his falsified and glorified feelings with words, he had to show it with every capacity of his being, for there was a method to this madness. If he was going to pretend to be in love, truly in love, then there was no alternative then to overdo it, to make a mockery of all those who had come before him. 

”Perfect... Let’s get to planning this party, this masquerade, before we get distracted again and it’s too late to finish and too late to call for dinner…” He winked with just enough tenderness to deceive her, grabbing a hold of the top of his gee and pulling it up his shoulders. He had this little dinner planned a day in advance, and the outfit, a short but fitted Gucci number in black and a size two, had been ordered along with the silver gown from the other night, just in case. If there was anything to note about Terry Silver, that was perhaps just as meticulous as his ponytail, it was his knack for both detail and being ahead of the game.


	19. Chapter 19

“I suppose so....” She hummed sadly, regretfully, drawing her arms away from his neck and picking up her own gee from the arm of the couch. She knew they still had work to do, a lot of work for that matter, but her soul wanted to remain entangled the way they’d been, a little while longer. It felt good, he felt good, like that first sip of Jack over ice, cool and sweet sliding down your throat, and having to quit for now...well, that didn’t feel so great. Greedy, yes that was the word, he’d given her an inch and now she wanted a mile. With a single taste of him, the curt feel of his manhood ripping through her and there formed an insatiable, relentless appetite. “W...Where do we start?” She asked with a deep breath, pulling the gee over her petite frame, her breasts scratching against the irritating material, still nagging for his loving bite.  
“Catering...above all else, food is the way to their hearts, you have good food you have it all...” He sighed, licking at his lip discreetly, taking one last look at her, bare in flesh, while he slipped his pants on and took a seat upon the chair nearest to the couch. He’d have her again that evening, in some way shape or form, that much was a given, but he needed something to hold him off till then and this was nothing short of perfect. “And they unfortunately expect the best, so I have to deliver...” He groaned, rolling his eyes at the very mention and notion of such an endeavor. Keeping appearances was all the food and drink at these parties, aimed to do, but he dreaded the added expense. It had to be provided regardless of cost, but he could never properly comprehend why an invitation to his lavish manor, his architectural marvel wasn’t enough to satisfy.  
“Always?” She furrowed her brows, sliding into the couch and slipping the back of her bare foot up his leg. A motion carried out without reason nor conscious thought, aside from the need to be close to him and to feel him. It was brash, devoid of her behavior around men, but with Terry Silver nothing she did or said was normal. Everything steered clear of the usual and the regular now that she had his love and somehow captured his lust. “That doesn’t sound fair, sounds tough to to keep up with...” She hissed with a heated smirk, sans the slightest bit of aching nerves, as she slid her foot further up his thigh.  
“Tougher than you’d think...” He moaned in a subtle gasp, glancing down at the foot adding pressure upon his gee, nails polished in crimson. “I thought I said no distractions, Beautiful...” He exclaimed, dragging his knuckles over her foot. “And this...” He said, inching into her with a callous smirk, flipping his hand over and grabbing it suddenly. “This is a distraction...” He insisted in a tone more serious, pushing her foot back, blue eyes observing earnestly as her backside skid roughly against leather. It would be ever so delectable to have her foot collide with his crotch, stimulating his manhood, but he couldn’t allow it, he wouldn’t allow it, not now. He had plans, big plans and caving into this, into her provocative decision, would put a damper on said plans and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Terry Silver had the reigns here, not the other way around, and she was out of line.  
“Sorry...I...it won’t happen again...” She replied sheepishly, nervously biting down on her lip and tucked her bare legs off to the side. Christ well that was fuckin’ dumb...she thought, recoiling in embarrassment, growing flush red everywhere including her ass. She’d acted upon impulse, her need for him, but now she was left a quivering shamed mess. He’d been so forward with his own hunger for her that she’d assumed such a motion would be tolerated, but man was she wrong, so wrong that it had her shaking somewhat in her boots. Clearly she’d misinterpreted the seriousness of this work, setting up this social event, but could one really blame her? Not really, no Terry Silver and his touch were just that irresistible. She didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did. Self control was damn near impossible as far as he was concerned.  
Oh how sweet...how honest, an apology...It was gross and weak, but in more ways than one, delicious. It meant she had the capacity to self deprecate and people who had the ability to hate themselves so quickly for whatever they did wrong, were perfect to manipulate. For every sorry, he could treat her like Pavlov did a dog, hand her something tasty, nice or shiny, until she’d achieved optimal obedience. “It’s alright...come here...” He nodded with a heartfelt grin, circling a finger at his lap. Like a father to a hurting, shamed child, he’d console her, make things right for her, but it was nothing but a diabolical means to a spectacular end. There’d be nothing genuine or sincere about any spoken word or gesture.  
Cowering and blushing with indignity, curling the edge of the gee inward against her bare stomach, she meandered towards him and slipped over his lap, her underwear clad bottom colliding with his thigh. He’d been slightly harsh with her, his words had been rather puzzling, and yet like a soul trapped under a warlock’s spell, she couldn’t help but do what he asked. He could tell her to drink punch laced with arsenic or dive into a pool of flesh eating bacteria and she do so without a second thought. It was insane, pure madness, but his love, his touch and his generosity was just that powerful, and convincing of anything.  
“Kiss me...” He insisted with a solemn smile, blue eyes stained with a kindness that was in every sense tainted, cupping her chin in his hand and drawing the other to her bare thigh, pressing lightly at her flesh.  
Nodding and agreeing blindly like a kind of zombified being, her body shuddering against his, she drew her lips forward against his hand and rounded her lips softly upon his. Guilt ridden and so desperately broken, she allowed his lips, his powerful mouth to engulf hers, making forgiveness for his outburst not only a must but deeply necessary for survival.  
“You’re everything to me Claudia Macleod, remember that, always...” He nodded, finally parting from her lips, his hand shaking at her chin. “Promise me...” He instructed with a deep sigh, his tone just a touch demanding as he searched her face intently for absolute acceptance. Lost and breathless, staring into his eyes with the smile of a toddler being healed of her wounds, she gripped at his hand that would surely leave its mark upon her jaw, and nodded, consenting to him with a full heart.  
“No...I want you to say it...I need you to say it Beautiful...” He shook his head, running his thumb back and forth over her lower lip, nearly patronizing her into a kind of submission.  
“I promise...” She cooed with a deep breath, nearly flinching in his grasp, feeling a sharp sting at her cheek, but ultimately relieved that he wouldn’t change a thing because of her lapse in judgement.  
“Good, that’s my girl...now where were we?” He mused with a warm grin, brushing a lock of her hair from her eyes, once more rolling down that mask of tenderness and undying love.  
“The catering...” She hummed at a loss for words, drained of her strength, her fondness and infatuation with him rising to a new height. His passion for her was relentless, unwavering, and his commitment like that of a monk to God, and all else including the slightest ache in her jaw was immaterial and inconsequential.


	20. Chapter 20

“Well that settles everything, caterer, entertainment, champagne, spirits, the decor …” He hummed, squeezing her into him, blue eyes staring into hers with exaggerated love. “If nothing else is missing...I think a shower is much needed...there is however a surprise for you, in the room you woke up in.” He grinned with a lift of his brow, his hands caressing her knee, vividly, deeply eager for her reaction. She’d claim that she was thrilled, that she was through the roof with excitement, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Terry Silver was all for words of gratitude and thankfulness, but he had to feel the physical weight of it in a person. With Claudia he had to sense it in her frame, and see it in her eyes to find satisfaction in her words.

“W...What did you do?” She gasped, eyes widened with unabashed enthusiasm, mouth smiling brightly as she gripped his stroking hand nearly stopping him in his tracks. No matter the gesture, the gift or kind of touch, Claudia would be amused with it like Tiny Tim Cratchit opening that first and only gift on Christmas Day. Terry could hand her a box full of nothing but air and she’d be over the moon with unspeakable joy. He could do no wrong in her eyes, and having known him for only a short while made no difference upon that mindset whatsoever. Some would call it moronic to utilize the positive deeds done in one’s past as evidence that they were good natured, as people often changed through time, but Claudia loved and valued her Uncle enough to believe that everything he’d said about Silver was accurate. Aside from his wild, manic style of love making, which she wasn’t all that used to, and that subtle reprimand for touching him out of place, he’d been gentle, kind and thoughtful in everything he’d said or done, just as Frank had promised. Military compatriots had an unbreakable bond. They often vowed to keep each other safe, and if one should fall in the line of duty, the fallen soldier’s family would looked after through and through. It was a concept they could put their faith in, and one Claudia held on to with Silver if nothing else. In her mind Silver was bound to this code, and though she never pictured herself locked in the throws of passion, nor believing that they’d harbor an intense, fast-moving feeling of love for one another, she felt he’d forever find it within himself to be good to her. 

“You’ll see...just look to your room, Beautiful...” He nodded, shifting her off his leg and to the side, kissing her tenderly before he turned to leave. Holy hell, he could really do and say just about anything lovely and contrite, and she’d fall weak in the knees, this was beautiful, he mused, letting a grin part upon chiseled features as bare feet slithered over the cool tile. 

“Okay...” She smiled with unfiltered euphoria, still reeling from crumbling strength of his lips, as he watched him drift away down the hall and tossed the spiral notebook upon the coffee table made entirely of glass. Terry Silver had taken her breath away, had stolen her of her soul, her heart and claimed her body as his own, and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t fight it, couldn’t stand up against it, even if she wanted to. She’d sold herself to him completely, had relinquished every part of her being into his hands like Charon did the shamed dead to the River of Styx and truthfully, she’d want it no other way. She belonged to Silver, and if she could put that on a patch and sew it onto her body, sharpened needle penetrating through soft flesh she would. Letting go of whatever bit of breath she had left, that Terry hadn’t robbed her or with his tenderness, she rose to her feet and slithered out the door towards that fateful bedroom she’d exited in fright and anxiety a few hours before. Passing by those abstract paintings that now seemed beautiful and mystifying to the eye, perhaps because she was blinded by his love, she found that quaint room once again. Drifting inside, her toes drifting upon cold tile, her heart came to a sudden stand still. There it was, the aforementioned surprise, laying out evenly upon the satin bed, in black, tailored short and clinging to thin straps. Claudia wasn’t a material girl like the Madonna song. She didn’t prescribe to the philosophy that life was worth living with the possession of lavish merchandise, but if he continued to gift her beautiful dresses like the one in front of her, she could very well change her ways. Terry was spoiling her, and the idea of getting used to it was a little frightening, but hell, the dress was sexy and a Gucci to boot. Disrobing quicker than the speed of light, caring not whether the gee landed on the bed or the tiled floor, she shuffled into the dress and rammed that zipper up her back. Damn another looker, another stunner, and with one solid glance in the mirror she was hooked. It embraced her in all the right places, accentuated her defining features and felt like nothing else upon her skin, kissed and caressed by a man who not only made her feel beautiful in her own skin but adored, finally. Though the dress hadn’t but a single sequin nor the slightest bit of glitter, she shimmered in the mirror, and tucking her hair back, she was more alluring than she’d ever been in her life. She’d take herself out to dinner if it were socially acceptable, and fuck herself over and over till she couldn’t walk ever again, for the way she looked in that dress. 

Grinning to herself, she thought not only of how scrumptious and heavenly her reflection was, but how Silver would react. He’d picked it out himself, and naturally he was bound to feel pleased, but he hadn’t seen it fitted to her person, had yet to take in her beauty and how she seemed to glow with every subtle turn. He’d find himself more in love with her upon initial sight, than when all of this began and when he’d ravished her upon the couch, and she was more sure of it more than anything she’d been sure of in her life. It wasn’t her new found confidence brainwashing her, or fiddling with her senses, and all she needed now was some makeup, that is if she could find her purse. She’d been drunk, but there was no way that she couldn’t have been so out of it that she’d drop such a heavy thing from her wrist, and not know about it. She’d have heard fall, there was no question of that, she’d just had one too many flutes of champagne, she hadn’t gone deaf. Where the hell was it? She asked herself repeatedly as she looked beside the bed, under the bed, on the dresser, under the dresser, as stupid as that was, but it wasn’t until she considered looking inside the dresser that she found it. In a dresser? That didn’t make sense, she hadn’t done it, she wasn’t that nosy, then she thought, Silver. Of course, who else. A guest was meant to feel safe in his house, but their belongings were best kept in their care, but she was no longer just a guest. She was everything to him, as he’d made her promise urgently, like his life depended on it, and what belonged to her perhaps held just as much importance.


	21. Chapter 21

Makeup was the saving grace of any woman needing to look her best. The magic to hid any and every imperfection, and like run off from a river into a waterfall, every bit of it she had stored in that purse came crashing down onto the dresser. A compact, some half emptied mascara, the harlot red lipstick from the night prior and a quarter slab of cracked blush; it was nothing to really write home about. Everything needed to start from scratch, build a new face upon her own, was missing and what she had was meant only for touch ups really. It was kind of a disaster, but since venturing home to retrieve at least a stick of eyeliner was an impossibility she had to accept her fate. Thankfully Terry seemed to admire her regardless of being fresh faced or painted up, and that in itself was a bit of a relief, but naturally it wasn’t enough. Makeup, or at least her complete routine, enhanced her well being and self esteem in ways not even Terry’s sweet brand of adoration could serve to accomplish. Unleashing a deep breath, she felt a little hopeless, but could find some comfort in the fact that she had a gorgeous dress on, and that her complexion was free of oil, making it easy for the powder to conceal those dark circles under her eyes. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and that made her giddy enough again to pick up the compact and brush away at her face. Then would come the soft red blush and the lipstick to match; a perfect compliment to the darkness of the dress, and to make her forget her concerns over her confidence.

Calm and collected in the master bath with Goodbye Horses echoing in from the bedroom, Terry disrobed once again, taking his time as there was plenty till chef had finished preparing the meal, Milos set the table and they both retired home for the night. It wasn’t customary to send Milos home or the chef, as he needed them there round the clock, but tonight wasn’t just any other night and Terry needed his privacy. Correction, they needed privacy. While her dress was hand selected out of the private Gucci catalog he had access to and the dinner was previously arranged, the festivities to come after that were all undecided. Terry liked to pre-program nearly everything that went on in his life, but when it came down to Claudia, he wanted nothing predetermined. He knew how to manipulate her into submission, he had the pattern memorized, but the technique and the methods were by no means fixed. He could make things up as he went along, and he very much liked that, he had complete jurisdiction and control. He had the liberty to try anything and everything out for size. Anything she could do to satisfy an urge, scratch the proverbial itch or just purely amuse or stimulate his senses was up for grabs. She already felt lost in his eyes, already crumbled at the slightest touch of his hand and promised to remember that she was everything to him, and if that didn’t insure that he had free range, he wasn’t sure what else could.

Humming to the eerie, melodic chorus woven into the song, grinning madly to himself, he slipped into the shower of black and white marble, feeling the warm water trickle down his back, massaging every robust muscle. Hot steaming water, fogging up the glass and drifting the congestion out of every pore, there was nothing quite like it on any given day or at any hour, but at that moment in time, it was incredible. Incredible because it capped such a brilliant turn of events and an otherworldly outcome. There was a young woman in the other room, no doubt convulsing over him and slithering a dress perhaps tighter and more revealing than necessary, upon a supple body, preparing herself for his delight. Nothing seemed finer than that, and it suddenly made even the most mundane and ordinary day to day things, like showering all the more pleasurable. He’d told her that she was everything and meant everything to him, and truth be told, it wasn’t a complete exaggeration. Terry had the pleasure of being with a number of women, but none came so sweetly and without a price. The women he’d possessed in the past, wanted either a slice of his fame, his money or other luxuries in exchange for his deviance or sex, and that was fine for the most part, but he was sick of it. Claudia had come to him seeking a job and that certainly fed into the category of asking for money, but it was done so to ease her suffering, not for pleasure and to keep her mouth shut about his dark perversions, and that meant everything to him. It just so happened that she’d caught him in the throws of boredom, fallen into a kind of trap that formed rather spontaneously and she’d coincidentally fallen in love. It was unfortunate for her, but it wasn’t his fault...not entirely at least. It wasn’t his fault that he was born with a face and a body that could make Hercules insecure.

Slipping out of the shower, scratching at his wet chest, his pectorals glistening under slightly dimmed, warm lights, fingers shifted over that Versace cologne, guilt free and shamelessly happy. Looking in the mirror with thoughts of her, and what he’d done to her, he held nothing but pride and deep sense of admiration for himself more so than before. This operation was stealthy, devious and underhanded, but unlike anything he’d managed to conduct in the past, and that felt like an immense accomplishment. Drying himself off with a towel from the rack, reveling in himself, and swaying subtly to the music, he dabbed the cologne upon his firm flesh, knowing exactly what he’d wear for this momentous occasion. The black button down, the latest Armani addition to his overtly stocked closet and the white linen slacks, a casual look but not at all understated and easy to remove if need be, much like the gee. Paired with locks tied and bound in a sleek ponytail, the get up would still fit the confident, corporate chic mold, but it flirted with the informal, and that was fantastic. It had enough respite written all over it, like the attire of a business man on vacation, to maintain the notion that this courtship wasn’t part of some elaborate business deal, and that was ideal.


	22. Chapter 22

Dress…check. Makeup…check, hair left loose and wild, check. Shoes…damn, there weren’t any shoes, well nothing other than the silver pumps she’d found buried in her closet and worn to the charity gala. They were sexy and matched the dress, but they were viciously uncomfortable having worn them all but once to a Motley Crue concert, which by in large, had been a terrible experience. It was a mess of show, with her friend dragging her around and attempting to pick up on any man willing to believe she was older than she seemed. Of course it didn’t work, because Debbie looked like she was twelve even at eighteen. She did however manage to coerce one corrupt soul just enough to buy them alcohol once the truth came out, and that was great because her feet were killing her and the concert was awful. The champagne at the party the other night, like the Jack Daniels at the horrendous concert, had numbed the pain in her feet, but unlucky for her, there wasn’t any in the room to do the same. The situation was unfortunate and the only shining light was that the shoes seemed to compliment the Gucci dress nicely, adding a flash of color like the red lipstick staining her lips, but that’s all she wrote. Grin and bear the discomfort to look nice, that was the name of the game, and so with a cringing bite of her lip, and a quick prayer to the heavens, suddenly believing in a higher power if only for jolting Silver into her life, she slipped her feet into the shoes. Fuck the pain…Fuck the pain, she repeated aloud in a whisper like a kind of mantra, curling her toes tightly snug inside against the leather as she slipped out of the room. It hurt like hell, and was of course going to try to torment her through the night but she had to refuse caving in, this dinner was just that important. 

Venturing down that fateful hall, feeling the ache in her feet shoot all the way up her spine, she found her heart skipping a beat to the subtle, ever smooth echo of Sade coming from somewhere outside. Shifting forward with a slight wobble in her step, her visage met with a floor length window parted of it’s curtains and open to the outdoors; a brightly lit pool she didn’t know he had, and a charming table set for two. 

“There you are…was beginning to wonder where you were…” His voice boomed, slithering away from the darkness of the bar with a loaded grin, eyes wandering over her with the examinant focus of a competent physician. There she was in the flesh, his plaything. His doll for the ages, in that scrumptious form fitting dress he’d picked by the flick of his finger against glossy paper, and he couldn’t resist toying with the thought of peeling it off her tanned frame. Calm down Terry boy…give that some time. Have a drink, have dinner….RELAX…He assured himself with a deep breath culminating in a collected smirk once he stepped forward, handing her a glass of Pinot Noir; the perfect choice for the perfect meal. Prime rib steak, rare and bloody for him, well done for her. Naturally, for it was what they liked, they being women. 

“Couldn’t find my purse…my makeup, I needed it…” She hummed anxiously, feeling the weight of his stare and drifting a hand over his to retrieve the glass, bumps forming at her dermis upon contact. Not only did he look like he’d bathed and changed somewhere in heaven, but his skin felt like it had been kissed by every last angel. Silky, smooth, these words couldn’t come close to describing what it was like at the slightest touch.

“No you didn’t…” He insisted with a shake of his head, circling around her till he was standing just behind, rolling his hands over her slender waist. “Look for yourself…” He urged in a tantalizing whisper at her ear, spinning her around to face a decorative mirror hung up against the wall. “You’re a vision…” He sighed, gazing slightly at her reflection and slithering his fingers back and fourth against the soft fabric, letting them survey his purchase, delicately contouring the muscles that lay beneath. “Rouge and foundation, cover what my eyes what to see, and what I love…” He murmured tenderly, tilting her neck gently with an unannounced draw of his lips to the center. Kissing her, tasting the salt of her skin, he grinned to himself, basking in the glory of what he’d presented to both his body and his soul. He’d found the fountain of youth, the road to El Dorado, the Garden of Eden and she was Eve, shaken hands coiled around the apple.

“Then I’ll never wear it again…” She moaned with a spellbound grin, leaning against his kiss with eyes shut. His mouth so moist and sensuous, his chest so warm and sturdy against her back were maddening, but these words, these reassuring words were something else entirely. They spoke of such love, such pure adoration for who she was and what nature intended her to be, and that not only made her body convulse with desire again, but it silenced the incessant throbbing in her feet.

“Mmm, that another promise, Beautiful?” He moaned, pausing the shifting of his hands but not the glide of his lips, giving his lips the go ahead to drive out another faithful pledge from the confines of her soul, even if doing so wasn’t her intention. It was a stupid thing to swear upon, a trivial subject to utilize, but he needed to see just how far he could throw her. Terry Silver wanted to challenge the grip he had upon her, and he didn’t care what he spoke of to do it, and that was the bottom line.

“Nothing, never…” She mumbled almost inaudibly, lost to her senses as she felt his tongue continue to engulf her flesh, careless as to how her body tingled viciously against it. It was relentless, it knew exactly what it wanted and she didn’t have the will nor the heart to make it stop. This was both pleasure and torment, and she yearned for it far too much to push it or him away. “Not even when I’m far away from you…I promise”. She insisted with a deep breath and a subtle nod, this time loud enough and clear enough, opening her eyes to look upon him in the mirror.

“I’m glad, but I’ll never be far from you, I’ll be here for you, always…” He exclaimed, parting lips from tender flesh with a warm, sultry breath, as he settled his gaze to hers. The latter part of this, though sweet and light, was a kind of a insidious lie. Terry Silver was only after what was best for him, and being there for her beyond the physical always and forever, wouldn’t be him doing what was best for him. Terry was emotionally unavailable, and neither did he have the time, this was just another thing to say to keep her under his thumb for as long as he wanted her to be.


	23. Chapter 23

“Is that Terry Silver making a promise then?” She sighed with a dazed grin, drowning in those crystal blue eyes and that smiling mouth that melted the skin off her bones, while her fingers slipped over his hands fitted firmly against her thighs. Always...he’d always be there, the word spun round and round in her head like a top, and if she wasn’t dying from his sense of compassion before, she was most certainly knocking on heaven’s door now. Terry knew what to say, to make a woman feel special and when to say it, and whether or not it was due to being much older and having been around the block too many times, she just didn’t want to know. Instead, she wanted to let everything he did kill her slowly and pleasurably. She wanted to exist somewhere in limbo, somewhere between blissful ignorance and his romance, and forget about how things really were or how they might be. She craved only to pretend, to believe that she was his blank slate, and that he was feeling something right and true for the very first time in his life. 

“It’s him doing anything the lady wants... making a pact, a promise, anything...” He moaned, smirking into the mirror and returning his lips to where they once were, kissing at her neck and down to her shoulder. Delectable, superb and intoxicating, these words described what it was like to kiss her, but it wasn’t the taste of her that made it so, it was the overall quality and youthfulness of it. She was pure, clean and had no visible scaring to mark the fact that like him, she’d been through hell and back. From what little he’d gathered from his research into her background; a strange little thing he did to keep himself aware and on his toes, life had dealt her the worst of hands. Her father had abandoned both her and her mother when she was a teenager, leaving her with no choice but to drop out of school and take care of her ailing mother who had the same form of lung cancer that eventually robbed her of her beloved Uncle Frank. Yet regardless of all this, Mother Nature had been kind to her visage, her figure and he couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man in the world: the keeper of a great and charming prize.

“Mmm in that case, promise me it’ll always be like this...you touching me...loving me...” She sighed against his ear, leading his hands down to the hem of her dress, where palms met warm flesh, burning just for him. Like dried twigs and leaves caught in the crosshairs of a blazing forest fire, the skin of her thighs and everything else, were scorched and she wanted to do nothing more than to show him. She yearned like nothing else, to make him see just what he did to her, and how it made her feel. Never in her life, had anyone set her heart, her mind nor the world around her ablaze quite like Terry Silver, and she craved to make it known. 

“It’ll be you and I like this, for as long as long can be, and I’ll do more than just love you and touch you like this Beautiful, you have my confidence...” He insisted, smirking discreetly into the crook of her neck, and curling up the edge of the dress, exposing enough of her into the mirror to sedate his urges and stimulate her own senses. A woman like her was easy enough to flatter and court with words alone, but actions often spoke louder than words and with her, he wanted to break the proverbial sound barrier. “You have me, all of me...” He whispered lifting his mouth away from her neck, though he continued to toy with the bottom of the dress and thumb at her bare, quivering flesh.

“And that’s all I’ll ever want Terry, Terry I love you...” She replied, sinking deeper into his chest and the touch of their hands against her thighs, eyes observing and admiring that sweet glow that settled upon her through the mirror.

There it was again, that unnerving phrase that crossed the wires in his brain and tied his stomach in knots, yet there was nothing for him to do but grin and take it. Take it like a man, as his dad put it to him once or twice in his youth, was the great answer; the golden ticket. This was a different, more delicate situation to deal with, and the man could barely cope with the loss of any Roulette game towards his untimely demise, it was sound advice. He’d definitely handle himself, and handle it, but could he say I love you back, properly? Not at all, not a chance, but hell could he kiss, hard enough to make her forget her name, but more importantly, forget that he’d failed to respond. Dragging a hand away from her thigh, he grabbed at her chin and lifted her up closer, planting a kiss ever so firmly upon her needy lips. If that didn’t make her believe in him, believe in this false love he tried to project upon her, he wasn’t sure what would. “I could do that forever, you taste like nothing else...” He moaned sharply, pulling back from her lips, eyes staring upon her with relish and unspeakable, fraudulent fondness. “But I think we should eat now darling, for chef’s sake...he really did slave away...” He nodded with a smile, still holding onto her face and letting his warm breath engulf her, driving home the notion that he too was lost in love.

“Suppose so...I guess it’s time...” She groaned reluctantly, with a hallowed and saddened breath, empty because he’d taken most if not all of the air in her lungs, and dismayed because their lips had to part so soon. If it was up to her, if nature would allow it and if the the fates had put it that the Vietnam vet never got his way, she’d keep her lips stationed upon his night and day. She’d make it so that they never strayed away, never grew tired and maintained their dedication. For as much as he belonged to her totally, his perfectly crafted, sultry lips belonged to her. 

“Just for chef...I promise...” He sighed with an assuring grin, following the faithless movement of her eyes, still holding on to her with one hand as the other pulled her glass of wine from the table. “Want him to know he did good...he’s new...” He whispered near her ear with an airy chuckle, sliding towards the patio with her fixed to his chest like they were partnered in a kind of backwards tango, him leading her naturally. “Need to know myself...” He lied, letting go of her, if only to slide a chair forward for her. The chef was a new hire, but he’d already been working for him for six months in the running, Terry just had to tell her something to get her to sit down. He could stand there kissing her and touching her for hours, there was some truth to his claim of forever, but he had other thoughts in mind. “Come, sit darlin...” He instructed in a soft endearing tone, shifting his hand over hers and tugging her closer to the antique chair, a smile never departing from his visage. 

Fingers shaking again like the earth after a massive earthquake, but mind disoriented by his eyes that shimmered with kindness and light, she took up his hand, feet heavy but virtually pain free as he piloted her into the seat. She knew how to sit down and she could do it all on her own, she was a big girl now, but for that genuine look of love in his visage, she was far too weak to do it herself. Terry Silver had stripped her of her abilities, her strength and her will to say no to any sort of assistance. Like an invalid, the ailing or the elderly, she couldn’t manage to do much of anything that didn’t involve showering him with her love.


	24. Chapter 24

Sliding into the seat he offered, her eyes maintained their glance upon him, taking in that deep stare that send her to God’s pearly gates and turned the concrete beneath her aching feet into a thousand drifting clouds. He was a Vietnam veteran, he’d grappled with the aftermath of destruction and understood devastation, but neither appeared on his face: a visage like polished porcelain. Despite the chaos of a life at war, the struggle she was sure he faced bringing himself out of it and sliding up the corporate ladder, he held a kind of grace about him; beauty she’d do anything for. The candles before her shone in his wake, flickered brightly against him, as he slithered into the seat beside her, and all she could feel was blessed; disbelief washing over her as something celestial was surely happening to her. Like a god he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders, but the fact that he had the time to love her, fill her with desire, felt deeply surreal.

“Taste the wine Beautiful, and tell me more about yourself. ” He sighed with a tender, encouraging grin, lifting his chin towards her glass as he took a sip at his own glass, fingers sliding haphazardly over the edge. “I want to know everything, what you hate, what you love, where you find yourself in the next few years...everything...” He smiled, clicking his tongue at the flavor of the wine and observing the way the moonlight seemed to cascade upon that smooth neck, his lips could never tire from, and those tanned breasts peeking through discreetly, at the top of that dress. Terry had done the legwork, had explored enough about her, but he needed to make his interest feel more real, more human and unlike a man driven purely by power and lust. The time to pretend that he harbored a great undying love for her had passed, and now there was an image to maintain. 

“Not much to tell...” She hummed with a tattered sigh pulling the glass to her lips, not at all alarmed by his sudden curiosity. Having a man asking her about herself, intently with serious, echoing interest ordinarily unnerved her, caused her to shake in her boots, but with Terry, it unexpectedly, did nothing of the sort. “I just, I just want to survive be able to exist beyond tomorrow, you know what I mean?”

“To not feel lost and uncertain of what time will bring, yes I know it...I still know it well.” He lamented with exaggerated sadness in his tone, head tilted back against the seat, hands still playing with the glass. Returning from the war, Terry had been lost and confused over the meaning of life, and where he was going, none of this admission was a farce, but it wasn’t enough to just speak of it. That sense of grief and melancholy over what he’d been through, had to flicker vividly about his visage. He had to make it seem like a part of him still felt sorry for himself, crumbled with anxiety over his difficult past, though not a shred of him gave a damn any longer. None of it mattered to him, but it would to her, and that reeked with such wonderous benefits. 

“Y...you, you do?” She asked mid gasp, dragging the top of her foot upon the skin of her of her ankle, in an effort to control herself from running towards him, flinging herself in his arms. A man like him still having doubts and fears like her? It seemed impossible, improbable, but it filtered into her consciousness all the same. The sentiment was voiced with such melancholy, such subtle heartache, that she could melt in the cold breeze surrounding her. Like her, Terry Silver, the billionaire, the mighty business tycoon was tailed by demons, pricked by the occasional thorn of insecurity, and her heart fell perhaps deeper than before into that hole of love she’d dug. 

“Unfortunately war does a number on ya, Beautiful...” He winked, miming an almost pained shrug and breathing deeply as he stared into her eyes and uncovered his still warm plate. “It’s a real cross to bear, a real burden, but there’s always a way around it...and now I have you...” He smiled with a lingering nod, lifting his fork and knife into the steak, slicing it without departing from his loving glance upon her. Charismatic and chivalrous, the two C’s, defined what he’d come to say and if it didn’t fling her heart out of her chest and on to the table violently, which he was almost ninety percent sure it would, he’d drive his Rolls into a wall, shattering every inch of it, and that was a solid promise. 

Now I have you...now I have you...It echoed manically through her body, through her mind and tore through her heartstrings, leaving her breathless and nearly a shell of her former self instantly. All this time she’d assumed he was to save her, to pull her out from the dark, and now he claimed to somewhat feel the same way about her and she was at a loss for words. A man who had everything; power, money and confidence finding safety in her, peace in a broken woman who often cried herself to sleep or drank herself into oblivion? It was unheard of, ludicrous and every part of her throbbed in panic and unspeakable joy, unsure of how to react. He loved her, he really loved her and none of this, was too good to be true nor some maddening dream to snap herself awake from anymore. 

“I...I don’t know what to say Terry...” She sighed with furrowed brows, eyes startled and bewildered, trying to distract herself with her own steak instead of screaming or crawling into her own burning skin to die. 

“Then say nothing...You complete me Claudia...” He exclaimed with a tortured, almost needy expression, throat nearly trembling, though he fought back the urge to laugh at his own tackiness. It was dollar romance novel jargon at it’s finest, not even worthy of Danielle Steele, but women still ate that stuff up like pints of ice cream after a horrible breakup, by the spoonful, unable to satisfy their bellies, and that was all he cared about, no matter how ridiculous. “We belong to each other, there’s nothing else to say...” He urged, face straight and determined but ever so tender, flipping his hand over hers, clutching at her slender fingers. The theatrics were on overload, pulled up to a hundred. 

“You helping me, me taking care of you...it’s going to be legendary, we’re going to be legendary, Beautiful...” He insisted, nodding with a brazen smile, lifting her hand off the table and gently playing with her fingers, blue eyes unwavering from her visage like a lion did a gazelle under it’s claws. These flowery words, these fingers toying with her, were just tools of the trade of domination and possession, but he’d be a liar if he said having her wasn’t the stuff of fables. She was the perfect taboo, the sweetest, like the song, a damnable offense to have and to hold, but it would make him the envy of the Gods and that was worth every disgusting, overtly romantic gesture and word. 

Goddamn if she wasn’t his, wasn’t devoted to him when he’d touched her shoulder, kissed her lips and engulfed her breasts like a hungered cannibal, she was now, totally and completely. Terry was a beautiful man all to his own. A man who’d claimed her, held her in the palm of his hand, and as if none of that was enough, she’d been branded now as his property and she wouldn’t have it any other way for as long as the fates would allow it. Terry Silver was the end all of Claudia Macleod, and there was nothing and would be no one to stand in the way of that, not now and not ever. “T...then I want to be legendary...I want what you want, Sensei...” She urged with an airy chuckle, eyes focused, inching forward and running her lips over the edge of his wrist still dangling her hand.

“Hmm then that’s all...my hands, my heart...it’s yours to keep Senpai...” He said, his tone serious, though his face fell into a grin with the thought of what she’d insisted upon and the notion that she called him Sensei, hooking a free finger under her chin. It was a tap at him, a delicious stab at his senses and the thing he loved most in the world aside from his money and playing at the revenge game for Kreese, karate. Only, he saw himself as being more than a Sensei to her, he’d be a grand master, for whom the slightest disobedience would bring upon a vicious wrath beyond words and human consciousness.


	25. Chapter 25

“Then kiss me...” She moaned, her tone almost that of a begging child, nudging at his wrist, this time with the tip of her nose. She was weak for him, drained by everything he’d done and said already, but with this new admission, she wanted to feel somehow even more numb. She craved to fall even harder, knowing he’d take away her grief, her anguish and that it was worth more than the salary he’d promised her. She needed to feel him and only him, drown herself in the touch of his lips again, greedy and relentless. Claudia Macleod, the definition of timid, afraid of men and despondent on a habitual basis, had become a feral, untamed animal at the fault of Terry Silver, failing to be satisfied by just the touch of his hand.

Saying nothing, and obeying her, but only this once, he shifted in closer, his finger still glued to the base of her chin and slithered his lips over hers. His lips moved in smoothly, tenderly but the kiss was by no means reserved or weak. There was power there, force like the jolt forward of his fist, the fateful one-two punch John had once praised him for, and he could feel her entire body nearly tremble against him, like he had a sixth sense. It was only her plump lips he’d touched, tasted, but he knew she was crumbling elsewhere. The luscious space between her legs, and her legs themselves, were no doubt quaking and the thought settled deliciously in his mind.

The weight of his kiss it knocked the capabilities of both sight and sound from her, cut through her breath like a knife and all she could do was brace herself to let that taste of him sink in. Strong, warm, and comforting, a lot like bourbon she so deeply loved and every bit sensuous was the flavor of those evenly lined, handsome lips as she collided with him. Heaven and the pleasures of hell were there upon his lips, his tongue and in his mouth, and time seemed to stand still just for her.

“Beautiful, you make me forget who I am...maybe even who I was...” He groaned, pulling back from the kiss only to run his tongue over her lower lip, his finger still planted upon the flesh of her chin. Naturally he was amplifying things, overstating his words, but he wouldn’t and certainly couldn’t deny the fact that it made him rock hard. He was drowning in lies and devilishly proud of them, of what they were doing to her, but the suppleness of her lips, the way they quivered for him was otherworldly, youthful even unlike any women he’d had before and of course he had to mention how he felt. If only to milk every drop of her love and admiration for what it was worth.

“Mmm divine...but it’s getting cold Beautiful...” He moaned, petting where he’d lapped her up with the edge of his finger. “You’re shivering...lets eat and go inside where it’s warm, where I can hold you...” He hummed softly, miming a look of concern for her and shifting his body in a subtle shiver. The weather was unusually cold for a summer’s night in LA, he’d unfortunately underestimated that and she was desperately cool to the touch, but that was besides the point of bringing it up, he had to be her knight in shining armor and carry on pretending to be the adoring and considerate lover. She was his already, but he couldn’t half ass this, he had to go all the way, no matter how silly or infantile his comments came to sound. 

“It is cold, really cold...” She hummed, the breath exhaling from her lungs saddened and listless, as she felt his finger drift away from her lips, and stabbed at her steak. His lips and his mouth crashing into hers was better, finer than any high end cut of beef, colorful array of julienned vegetables and expensive wine. His kiss, gave her the necessary nutrients and sustenance the wonderfully presented meal could never give her and suddenly she felt rather deflated. This wouldn’t be the last time they’d touch, the final time her mouth would settle upon his, and she was aware of that, given the unfiltered way he hungered for her, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly dismayed. Like a child clinging to her mother, riddled with crippling separation anxiety, she couldn’t part from him and his touch even for a second. She was an addict and his love, his touch and him, body and soul was her addiction, her sweet affliction and it broke her to be without at any given instance. 

“Let me, let me do this...I want to...” He insisted with a crisp yet tender grin, drawing a hand to hers, clutching the fork and knife between her fingertips. It was an odd request that was reminiscent of something one would find in a dollar store romance paperback: the act of a moronic hyper sensationalized lover, but it suddenly settled well in his head as the proper fantasy to paint for a pathetic love starved girl, much like herself. She’d surely devour it and glorify the gesture in her head, as most women would probably do upon reading such a thing, but somehow it felt like it would be done ten fold with her. She’d probably implode with love more so than she already had, and just the thought of it, was enough to convince him to commit to such an idiotic thing. It triggered the part of his brain that frowned in disgust over gestures that were overtly romantic, but both power and control over her were kind of at stake and it was just another thing that had to be done.

Though it felt a little strange, and almost foolish, a decision for someone of his stature; a musclebound billionaire who practiced karate almost daily, but if it made him happy, she was more than a little willing to comply. It would make her feel like an infant, lacking the proper use of hands and fingers, to dice up her own food and eat but if he wanted it, she was ready tolerate it. A part of her even began to consider that it was sweet, endearing and touching a thing, to have the man she’d grown to love so abruptly and without regret, feed her. Comforting and amusing herself with that thought, she slid her plate and utensils in his direction with an most enamored expression, dazed by the ever present and unwavering kindness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Here we go...” He sighed deeply, miming delight at her approval and maintaining that widened grin, as he sliced a piece of that six ounce steak; ordered small deliberately to limit their time at the table. “Take a bite and tell me how it tastes, don’t be shy if it’s terrible...” He chuckled with a tilt of his head, driving the loaded fork towards her mouth. Oh that delicious mouth...how he craved for it to swallow him up whole, engulfing every inch of him and loving every second of it. 

“Good...so tender. Jesus it’s delicious...” She hummed, knocking her head back slightly as she chewed, nearly losing herself to the taste, a look one held after a manic orgasm washing over her face. She’d had no desire to eat, thinking the pleasure of finely prepared food couldn’t possible measure up to the euphoria derived from his touch, his embrace, but she’d now come to regret ever having that sentiment. While it wasn’t clear as to whether it was really the steak flirting pleasantly with her taste buds or the combination of it and him feeding her that heightened everything, she wanted more of it. 

“That it is...” He sighed with a click of his tongue, as he took a bite from his own plate and watched her nearly convulse with untamed ecstasy. Observing how that meal, not at all painstakingly made by the chef as he’d sworn it was, defile that darling yet uniquely shaped face, contorting it from peaceful and innocent to manic and aroused, was unreal and it did everything in it’s power to make him feel the same. “That it is...I hate to say it but here’s the last of it Beautiful...” He nodded, stabbing and cutting another slither of beef, and rolling his thigh over the other underneath the table, to calm the pulsing need to overpower her. If that simple cut of prime rib was going to bring fourth such a reaction, there was just no telling what would happen if it was his hand reaching down and pleasuring her again. There was no doubt that she’d implode, burst with more devotion and admiration for him, but a part of him desperately craved the thrill of a surprise, like the first time he walked into that Lamborghini dealership downtown, amazed that he could afford nearly every single one available on the lot.


	26. Chapter 26

“How awful...” She pouted, sliding her mouth open to take in what he was offering and dragging a hand to his wrist, caressing softly at his flesh. She was sad to finish for the dish was heavenly, better than any hunk of steak she’d ever had in LA, but it was safe to say that her sentiment was ultimately sarcastic. Despite it’s impeccable taste and immaculate look, it didn’t mean all that much, not much at all, with the throbbing ache in her nether regions; the manic, unquenched thirst for his touch. In another world perhaps, the blasphemous sin she’d committed to before setting foot in the shower, the trip they’d taken body penetrating body, and this increasingly romantic dinner would have surely been enough to curb her appetite, but that wasn’t the case here. Claudia had to have more, had to feel more, expand her horizons in this love, and venture completely, into a whole new reality: Terry Silver’s reality. 

“My apologies Beautiful...I’ll buy you the whole damn butcher shop tomorrow...” He chuckled loosely with a playful roll of his eyes, flipping that last bit towards her pretty little mouth, parting his own lips in a warm breath. The application of humor in wooing, it was utterly stupid and he couldn’t really fathom utilizing it, but women loved men who were funny and he needed to keep her so desperately in love with him, or just forget about adhering to his perversions. “Nothing’s too good for you...” He snorted, tilting his head in a lingering smirk, dropping the fork to her plate and watching her chew ever so delicately. Oh that mouth, those lips, to make them beg would be so precious...There they were again, those incorrigible musings, but did he give a damn, was he concerned about having them? Not in the slightest, not anymore. She was his pet, one hundred and fifty percent. his meal to devour over and over again, and his fountain to drink from upon every hour of his choosing. 

“I’m touched...” She laughed silently, subtly, miming a soft blush as she swallowed the meat entirely, shaking her shoulders against the cold as she slid in even closer to him. 

“I’m glad...” He hissed hotly with a crooked grin, pushing aside his half eaten, barely touched plate with his elbow, dragging his hand to her shoulder, lowering the strap pressed tightly into her flesh and drawing his lips to her shoulder. Suckling against her soft, sun-kissed skin, he moaned discreetly for added effect, overemphasizing the sweetness and the glory of it. She was good, her taste nothing short of phenomenal, but this was Terry driving her sinking ship into his harbor. He had to insist that he was just as intoxicated, just as obsessed with her body as she was of his, but in truth, who wouldn’t be? Angels would damn themselves for him, devout nuns would surely convert from their faith at the mere sight of him, naked or otherwise and that was the Lord’s honest truth, or at least the truth he held of himself with strong conviction. “Mmm lets go inside...you’re still cold, I’d feel horrible if I made you sick...” He sighed into her flesh, having reached the base of her neck, mouth crinkling into a smirk of devious glee, feeling her skin burn in his wake, knowing well enough what it meant. There was no Macleod left in Claudia Macleod, she was all Silver now, drained almost completely of her innocence and light.

“I...I wouldn’t get sick...not with you” She groaned, drawing her hand up his neck and through the base of his ponytail. Lord did she love doing that, lord did she love feeling that...his hair and his lips engulfing her flesh. She’d do anything, say anything for his goodness and thoughtfulness, but for that, she’d give him that last chunk of the world he didn’t have in a wicker basket; that last piece of the puzzle she’d naturally have to steal. “Never think I will with you Sensei, take me...take me inside or wherever you want to go, I’m your girl Terry Silver...” She hissed with conviction, pulling his head forward by way of his greasy scalp, hazel eyes wanting to gaze vividly into that chiseled visage and prove that her word was her bond. This was a kind of maddening, dominance on her part, an assertion of confidence for the first time in her life, and she could care less as to what image it could possibly project. She wanted to give Terry Silver the right, the jurisdiction to do as he pleased with her and the trust that she’d be where he wanted her to be, so long as he loved her the way he did.

“Come on then...” He exhaled in warm waves, pulling her petite waist into his frame, flinging her into his arms with little to no effort whatsoever. A part of him felt flustered by this abrupt gesture on her end, feeling that the touch took from his sense of control, but he couldn’t pretend that there was something deeply amusing about her sudden enthusiasm. “My girl...” He hummed over her lips, wrapping her legs around him as he rose to his Ferragamo adorned feet.


	27. Chapter 27

My girl...They were her words, but they sounded far better coming from him, spilling out from his wonderous, talented lips. An angel had fallen from grace at the click of his tongue, repeating those two little words and she was the fateful angel. It was sweet, light and bound by mutual love, but with a man like Terry Silver, it would be a more possessive title, and she found no real fault in that. In every sense of it, she wanted to be his girl, his girl Friday and perhaps everyday. Everyday for her natural life, even if they’d just recently become a thing, she craved to be at his side for as long as life permitted her to be.

“Hmm where have you been all my life...Terry, Terry Silver?” She hummed with stars in her eyes, kissing tenderly at his neck as he carried her into the house. His arms sturdy and strong, holding her to his chest, his heartbeat within inches away from her, was overwhelming, overwhelmingly pleasant and failing to adore him for it, felt wrong. So wrong, that she didn’t wanna be right. She wanted this, wanted to drown in this sea of love, of him and his cologne and she couldn’t imagine anyone being so close and not desiring to.

“Fighting my way through a war, starting a company, so very alone..." He moaned loosely, tossing a quick smile, as he slipped her over the threshold into the living room, fireplace still blazing. She was gone, so far gone in this infatuation, lost to his lies like a fly in the eye of a hurricane. Elation, couldn’t begin to describe how he felt about her choice of words, the longing in her voice and her kiss, made it all the more convincing that he’d won this and that she’d allow what he had up his sleeve. Not that her authorization mattered all that much when he made the rules. “But now I’ve got you...all is well...I can breathe again...” He nodded, parting from her with an assuring glance, eyes twinkling in anticipation, while he set her down upon the couch. “You know the Thai have a saying...” He hissed with a lift of his brow, shifting her arms from his shoulders and brushing the fallen hair from her eyes. “I forget what it’s called exactly, but it says that if two people are meant to be together, and if their bound to one another by blood, they’ll find each other over and over in another life...” He said with a smile, kissing her lips, as he tucked a hand at his back and pulled a mahogany box from the coffee table. Naturally the story was only half correct, but Terry’s mind was elsewhere, on a stunt that was more over the top than anything else he’d done thus far. The legend mentioned nothing about blood, but Terry was a man of severity and had a flair for the dramatic, especially with something or someone that belonged to him. 

“If the love, if the n...need is strong...that’s beautiful Terry...” She mused with a bite of her smiling lip, her stumbling heart ever so full in her chest as she pondered over the context of the box. He’d made an attempt to be discreet about it, but with the eyes she had for him, there was nothing she didn’t take notice of. Nothing he did went unseen, nor without record, for she wanted to etch as much of him into her mind and heart as possible. Could it have been another gift, a shinning token of his appreciation? She wasn’t entirely sure, but it thrilled her nonetheless and she was more than a little curious. She hadn’t known him for very long, but already he’d proven that he was a man of many surprises and it left her speechless among everything else. Love sick and drone like, the latter being a first, was what she’d become with every gesture he posed, and surely whatever lay in the box would only make things worse.

“Yes, but do you believe it?” He inquired, tilting his head and furrowing his brows with strict focus, as strong fingers opened the box at half mast, concealing its contents briefly. He knew what her answer would be, he could see it before his eyes, he could hear it clear as day, but of course his black, insatiable heart needed a direct, stern confirmation. 

“I believe, I believe it...sure...” She replied with a shaken breath, still excited but somehow a little afraid now. The anticipation of what he held in his hands, nagged at her pleasantly, filling her belly up with butterflies again, but his tone and the frankness of it, felt as intense as the way in which he made love. She adored how overwhelmed she’d been by his power, his serious, passionate touch and his poetic choice of words, but something was a little different about this. The look in his eyes told of something maddening, something out of the norm and where she found it compelling, it made her weak with uncertainty. She’d take what was coming, because she had it in her mind that he wouldn’t dare hurt her, but the unknown was never an easy thing for her to grapple with, especially in a forbidden romance, being that she’d never found herself in one before. Claudia wouldn’t say she was boring, no, but her life lacked enough adventure to make her uneasy and concerned when it stared her wildly in the face. 

“Good...Because I believe it to be true of us and that’s why I need to show you this...” He proclaimed, eyes burning through her with a crinkled smile, as he pulled out a small sword, nearly the size of a letter opener. “This, this is a kodachi which means “little sword” in Japanese, but it’s not just any little sword.” He nodded, dragging his fingertips against the ribbon wrapped cover, sliding a blade of shining chrome out from within. “When I was in Okinawa on business, a deeply eccentric man gave this to me, and claimed it was a kind of friendship knife; a kind of love knife, and that any two souls pricked by the edge of it’s blade, would remain intertwined forever...”

Forever...that’s something she wanted, something she craved desperately to have with him, and she found the fable to be rather mystical, romantic even, but that was still a knife, and she couldn’t hide the fact that it threw her off the edge just a little bit. The sight of it left her frightened but perhaps even more so confused. He had her love completely, and why he needed that knife to make a point, made the slightest bit of sense, but somehow she felt the need to understand it, the need to hear him out. 

“And you see the thing is Beautiful, I’ve waited and I’ve searched for that soul to be connected to, to feel in my bones when I’m alone, and I think that soul is you...” He urged with a look of wonder, blue eyes almost wet as he cupped her face in his hands, the dull yet cool side of the tiny sword nearly grazing the side of her face. Every ounce of this was a glorified fabrication; neither the “eccentric” man, the story, nor the gifting of the sword were ultimately real, he’d made the entire thing up. The only truth was him having gone to Japan. He’d had the thing made as a memento, a reminder of that fantastic trade deal he’d made in Kyoto and the great fun he’d had. 

“I...I don’t understand Terry...” She replied, the flesh of her cheeks burning again in his grasp, her tongue losing it’s moisture, dry as Janet’s morning bacon. Through the fear, she was touched. This declaration of need warmed her to the bone, but a man so matter of fact, following the guidelines of a possible myth, felt a tad absurd and she couldn’t believe her ears. She knew what he intended to have happen, she wasn’t a moron, and this was more a flash of disbelief and bewilderment than a lack of understanding. 

She didn’t understand...Well of course she didn’t. Really Terry...how could you think otherwise? Dumb was her middle name more or less. Surely the whole thing registered as rocket science in her head and the trouble of it nearly unnerved him, but he wanted this enough not to back down. To make her bleed just a little, and fuse a near microscopic drop of his blood in her, would be the ultimate send off to this maddening, twisting train and he didn’t want to get off. “I know this is crazy, believe me, I know it is, but words aren’t enough. I need you inside me, I need to feel your love running through me, when I can’t make love to you and when I can’t kiss you...” He insisted almost frantically, rolling his thumb about her face, breath coming in raw and tattered, unleashing his finest, tour-de-force performance yet, waiting for a response like an unfortunate soul waiting to hear of the passing of an ailing loved one. Grand desperation and urgency echoed in his voice, in every word and he couldn’t be prouder of himself. “Just a prick Beautiful, Senpai, no more no less and we’ll have forever...please” He begged, nodding incessantly with widened eyes, blue hues possibly sharper than ever, leaning in for a kiss at forever. 

This was a bizarre way of establishing that forever, that eternal bond of love, but it was real, she could feel it in that kiss, in his eyes, as blue as ocean waves crashing onto Zuma Beach, and she couldn’t deny him of this request. As peculiar as it was, as mysterious as it was, her heart melted like the wax of a shriveled candle, rapidly and relentlessly, at his urgency. To say no, to turn him away callously out of insecurity and fear would be like a stab through his own heart, and she didn’t have the strength to do that. Not to him, not after all he’d done and said, for he was her all, her home away from home.

“T...then give me forever...” She murmured with an anxious smile, drawing her hands to either side of his face, holding onto that fire raging in his eyes; that burning love that led him this way, made him reach for the drastic and the oddest of methods to solidify. 

Saying nothing in return but nodding and miming the solemn, devoted expression of Mary to Jesus on the Cross: a blasphemous glance that could send him to the gates of hell faster than anything else, he slipped away from her and dragged the sharpened blade to the center of his palm, slicing all but an inch into his flesh. Though he felt the burn of the blade, as any man would, he remained calm and stoic like the soldier he still was at heart, and grinned with a mix of elation and pride. This is it now, signed, sealed and delivered, he thought to himself, and slid forward to take up her hand, gently cradling it with amplified humility and adoration in his eyes for her sacrifice. He sensed the subtle shake and edgy rattle of her skin, and did nothing about it but shudder himself with unabashed euphoria and drove the blade into the flesh of her palm. She moaned roughly from the abrupt sting and her fingers curled around the dull end of the blade in a mad rush, but the second he shifted his palm upon it, stopping the blood with his own and clasping their hands together, the pain ceased to exist. Like ointment upon a bandage, that warm bit of blood trickling into her from the palm of his hand, took from the hurt and suddenly she was left smiling. 

“There...now you’ll always be near me, with me and I’ll be with you just the same, Beautiful...I love you.” He nodded, biting his tongue with the sincerest of grins, lifting his palm from hers and from her subtle cut, only to replace it with his lips, kissing her to make the deal nonnegotiable in his own head.


	28. Chapter 28

There they were...the fateful words he knew she was expecting from the begging but he’d kept himself from uttering for so long he’d gotten used to it. He’d procrastinated on saying it, due partly to his inability to sound convincing of it and because he felt he just didn’t need it when she was eating out of the palm of his hand. Only now that she’d allowed him this right of passage, let her hand bleed against his, leaving his mark upon her, was it necessary. Saying I love you as arduous and as troubling as it was, held a certain level of importance now: an importance in the art of control. In fact everything, even the slashing of their palms and this strange little blood oath, was done in order to keep her from shifting away from him. 

“Together always...and you don’t have to feel any hurt, never again, not with me...nothing of the war, no pain, just love.” She hummed with insistence in her voice, petting tenderly at his head, fingers running through his greasy locks, as he continued to kiss at the palm of her hand. “Sensei...Terry, Terry Baby...” She cooed adoringly, softly with a nodding grin, as though she were lulling a baby to sleep, her eyes shut as she bend her head forward and kissed at his temple. This was love, beautiful, fairytale love, albeit with a twist, a bizarre twist and she thought of nowhere else she’d rather be than in that living room, with the billionaire suckling at her hand, and perhaps tasting the bit of iron in her blood. The whole scene was a little strange and nearly too gothic for her taste, for the old Claudia at least, and if her permitting it wasn’t evidence enough that she’d let Terry Silver do anything in the name of love, then she had no clue as to what would suffice. 

Oh the sweetness, the tenderness...what juvenile, Walt Disney grade garbage...She’s definitely lost it...and Terry...Terry Baby? What was this, Grease? An episode of Happy Days? Oh how irritating...He thought in his head, that ever present and ever sharp brain of his, and yet he wrapped his arm around her, like her words and her actions were almost tolerable. He couldn’t couldn’t come to terms with it, not completely at least and it gnawed at his insides to permit it, but deviating from it, from the silliness of it, would alter the flow of things far drastically then he could every imagine. No matter how he looked at it, how he approached it, keeping her from basking in this romance, this fake romance felt like a deeply problematic thing to do. He had to swallow his dread, his contempt and his heightened disgust of the whole process, the idea of it and let it happen. He had to let her believe that all of this was okay, otherwise he’d have to put away any deviant game he’d already unpacked into the drawers of his mind. She was much too fragile and without believing nor trusting in this love at every moment and at every turn, she’d break, refuse to play any game, and he hadn’t the patience for that. He needed her, but did so like a child needed a rag doll, to tug and pull wherever he wished and into whatever troubling act he wished to participate in. 

“But a Senpai doesn’t soothe the pain of her Sensei...” He sighed, lifting his lips up from her hand, blue eyes furrowed with a blend of fabricated innocence and bashfulness, lips quivering sheepishly like a frightened animal, though he was nothing of the sort. He was every bit as strong as when he’d begun this farce, he just had to pretend to be that scared young thing he’d once lowered himself to when that Vietcong had flung open the prisoner’s cage and viciously pointed a gun to his head; the last time Kreese had ever saved his life. 

“One does now...and that’s a promise, a promise I can make...to you.” She insisted with a sincere nod, brushing back the bit of hair slipping away from the gel of his ponytail, and cupping his face in her soft hands. “I’ve been there for everyone else in my life, what’s one more?” She smiled crookedly, searching for trust in his eyes, an understanding that his pain would be her pain, and that nothing tragic he ever felt would ever be a burden on her. This was the sort of thing she wanted to distance herself from, something from which she wanted peace, after years of it with Frank and even Janet at times, but with Terry it would be different. Different because there would be a mutual exchange of care, not one person numbing another’s grief and agony, but two people doing so for each other simultaneously. 

“You’ve given me something Terry that I’ve never had, never in my life, something I’ve never felt and if I can’t do this then I..” She exclaimed with a sudden pause, gasping subtly as she felt the weight of his finger shifting upon her parted lips, eyes piercing into his with alarm, caught completely off guard. “Stop...just stop...” He urged, nodding with a deep sigh, grabbing onto her wrists gently, sliding her hands from his face. “My pain is my pain, not yours. It’ll never be yours, because I don’t want it to be...not now and not ever...” He said, biting his lip with subtle frustration in his voice, eyes shifting about her face far more seriously than they’d ever done before, searching for some kind of understanding. Terry didn’t have much pain left, and what he did have was exaggerated for added effect, but he wanted to keep it from her. He’d let her tell him whatever she saw fit, harness everything she was willing to contribute about herself but he was going to be the hypocrite. That bit of weakness wasn’t going to be shared completely, ever, no matter how crucial it would be in order to maintain this charade. Yet he couldn’t break the news to her in a way that made him seem heartless, though he was in nearly every sense of the word. He had to do this softly, tenderly, and pretend that his grief was agonizing enough to shatter her heart and best if it remained buried. It was the humble thing to do if nothing else, and befitting to the stubborn Veteran image. “I’m here for you, forget my pain Beautiful.” He nodded once more and slid forward into her, kissing at her lips to steal away any other thought bursting in her mind. 

“Alright...” She replied against his lips, voice cracked and dismayed, eyes shut in hopeless grief. It was the least she thought she could do, the personable thing that stood apart from any secretarial work she could ever do, and yet he’d shot it down like a fighter plane did the enemy. It hurt, it pained her yet a part of her understood it, as Uncle Frank often did the very same thing. Shut people out and bottle certain things up inside, perhaps in fear of callous judgement. “I’ll try...”


	29. Chapter 29

“Good girl...can’t have you worrying about me...It’s not good for your health...” He sighed, changing his demeanor quickly from the serious and the distraught to the pious and the relieved. That manic, desperate display had done its job . “Now let’s get a bandage on these hands, can’t have infections either...” He nodded with a smile, taking up her hand that wasn’t cut and bleeding, and nudged her towards the door.

Unable to tear herself away from his smiling glance, her soul lost to unadulterated happiness, she let him lead her down the hall and into the very last bedroom in the house; the master by assumption. His bedroom, or at least it had to be judging by the expanse of it. It was gorgeous, bigger and better than any bedroom on that dreadful Robin Leach show Janet couldn’t get enough of; better than her own, and that said a lot. Her bedroom was a hole in the wall that could barely fit a proper closet and contained within it a ratty old twin bed, adequate for a teenager, not a woman in her late twenties. Silver had the works, a king sized bed that once more teased the sexually repressed girl within, and a walk-in closet that could make Imelda Marcos weep. It was all so stunning; the stuff to really envy, to long for desperately and the bathroom he slid her into, well that was even prettier.

Turning to face her, his smile still as grand as ever, he pushed forward and lifted her in his arms, the rough skin of his wrists colliding with the softened flesh of her thighs again. Eyes beaming with the falsified adoration lost just minutes before, he set her on the the marble vanity, marveling at her in the glamorous dress he’d artfully selected. If he wasn’t using her, if he wasn’t playing some sorted game and if he desired to make a woman his wife, like men of the normal world, then this pretty little thing would be the premier candidate. She was sweet, loving, the perfect mother to a child, that is if he was into that sort of thing. “Senpai...” He cooed softly maintaining that twinkling grin, the back of his hand caressing at her cheek. “Mmm a minute...just give me a minute...” He moaned, coiling away from her with a bite of his lip, pretending to find anguish in having to leave her side so quickly for even a second. It was melodramatic, even dumb to do so, but it fit the bill of the soap opera romance he’d built and it felt justified.

With her lips still trembling from his kiss, her legs tingling up against the cool marble counter, she watched as broad shoulders stretched out a muscle bound arm tucked away in that crisp black shirt that seemed to highlight his splendor beautifully, towards the medicine cabinet. Observed as hands strong and ever so loving as they cradled her face, and brushed through her hair, pulled out a roll of double thick gauze, pads of cotton and some isopropyl alcohol, no doubt to treat her wound before he turned to himself. My culprit and my hero...she smiled to herself in confusion, thinking about how he’d been the one to cut her hand though in an act of devotion and now he wanted to apply first aid. She had to do a double take, as it made little to no sense, for him to play these two roles, but it was better not to question these things. Terry Silver was a man brimming with complexity, who loved with a kind of love that most wouldn’t understand and it was something her mind just had to accept, because her heart simply wouldn’t have it any other way. Her love was here to stay no matter how intense, how bizarre nor passionately he approached things when it came to her. This love was to be the best she’d ever had, with or without it’s wild, untamed attributes. 

“Now this might sting, but if you can handle me, you can handle this Beautiful...” He assured, crinkling his cheeks with a subtle chuckle, shaking a bit of alcohol onto the cotton pad. “Let’s see that palm...” He nodded with another smile, like he was a pediatrician and she a little one in need of an examination. Some would call it patronizing, his tone and the way his head tilted to one side in a grin, but to her it was tender love and care, and it was all too visible in that sheepish smile she flung his way as she turned up her reddened palm. She was devouring it like a penniless child did a handful of candy, and it left him quaking with delight as he rubbed the alcohol gently over the small gash in her hand. 

“Ouch...” She winced, cowering into herself, despite his tenderness, as the alcohol hit her flesh. He’d sliced her hand for no apparent reason other than love, and this caused her to cringe? What madness! It was insane, bizarre of her to even flinch, it was just alcohol and yet she gripped hard against the bottom of the counter, fingertips pressing deep into the wood inlay. 

“Alright there, Senpai?” He snorted, bending down to catch her hazel eyes, ignoring the subtle throb in his own hand, taking it like a man, that’s what that was. “I thought you had this?” He laughed with pursed lips, tossing aside the cotton and tearing off a bit of the bandage, with one hand still fixed lovingly upon her wrist. 

“Yah...I just, I don’t know, alcohol. Really deceiving, fall for it every time.” She smirked with a roll of her eyes, blushing at her cheeks with embarrassment. Holy hell was that pathetic. You big karate man...me very small, silly woman...What a joke!   
“Mmm tricky that alcohol...” He said with a click of his tongue and a playful lift of his brow. “But it’s done, and this’ll help...” He assured, nodding with another smile upon his lips as he wrapped and clipped the gauze bandaging over her hand effortlessly and at record speed, like he’d done a hundred back to back upon an assembly line, “There guess I picked up something useful from the Army...” He joked humbly, tapping gently at her newly wrapped hand, taking subtle pride in his handy work as the other hand tucked the rest of the gauze into his back pocket. There’d be a use for it soon enough, perhaps sooner than anticipated. “Not too tight is it?” 

“No...just right...like you...” She hummed, leaning forwards and slithering her arms around his neck, adoring eyes focusing upon him like there was no one else in the world: no one like him. 

“Could say the same about you...” He smiled admiringly, tilting his head and drawing his hands to her waist. “My Senpai for the ages...” He added, kissing at her plump lips, luscious petals he knew were of course needing him like nothing else, and slipped her off the counter with an expert lift. Keeping the flow of the kiss, failing to really breakaway even for the smallest of breaths, he dragged her towards his grand plateau of a bed, the roll of gauze burning a figurative hole through his back pocket. Thrill and unabashed euphoria, were ringing through his body, his blackened heart and his soul, and he couldn’t fling her onto the duvet fast enough. 

“Could get used to you calling me Senpai...Terry, Terry Silver...” She moaned pleasantly into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his waist as her lower back hit the bed, her conscience leaving her to her own devices. Oh how she loved calling him by his full name, almost as much as she liked calling him Sensei, if not more. Funny how not long ago, all but forty-eight hours ago, she thought it to be a raunchy name and cheesy as hell. Supervillain, no superhero alias worthy...yes that’s what it was. Strange what love made foolish people do.  
“Mmm...and you calling me Sensei...Claudia, Claudia Macleod...” He mocked her tone slightly in jest, letting go of her lips and running his hand over her ankles, feeling the pores of her skin nearly quiver against his hand. “Slide up to the headboard Beautiful...we’re gonna play a little game.” He urged, unwrapping her legs from his waist and opting for a more seductive, mischievous demeanor than of the chastened, good natured boyfriend. The real Terry Silver; the genuine article.

Game...wasn’t he too old for games? She pondered nervously for all but a moment, then so quickly put an end to it. No questions...there’d be no questions and little room for nerves, there couldn’t be, she assured herself, and slithered up the lush bed, her eyes peering up at him with a bewildered glance, all the while unsure whether to spit or swallow. She’d claimed to not allow her nerves to take a complete hold of her, but to insist she didn’t have any gripping her, was almost impossible.

“That’s my girl...my Senpai...” He smirked, slipping away from the foot of the bed and coming around to where she’d ventured on command, taking a seat just beside her. “Now...this game requires your focus, a command of your senses, and complete attention to what I tell you my love...” He instructed with a lick at the roof of his mouth, droplets of delicious sweat forming at top of his lip, as he finally tugged the roll of gauze free of his pocket. The hour had come, the moment had arrived and his spirit felt the burn in his hand wither away like dust in the wind, nothing ceased to matter but what she had coming to her. “Do you think you could manage that for me Beautiful?” He whispered, inching closer to her till his breath settled upon her near angelic, almost petrified face, fingers sliding down the side of her cheek. 

Nodding without a word, and feeling a manic, wadded gulp sift through her throat, she surveyed with anxious eyes as he unraveled the gauze bit by bit and took up her wrist, admiring it as he grinned upon her. For a moment, she thought of telling him that she wasn’t sure about this, taking the unnerved and inexperienced route. Yet having come this far, having been reckless and making mad love to one’s employer in his home office, such thoughts, seemed nearly pointless to harbor. Refusing him, rejecting whatever this was, now, in light of everything that had come to pass, would be ridiculous and downright fruitless. 

“Good, very good... He assured with shameless glee, slipping forward to kiss her lips tenderly with approval while his hand busied itself with binding her wrist to the edge of the headboard. “Think Senpai deserves a stripe on her belt...” He chuckled silently, tying the ends of the gauze together, tightly but soft enough to avoid any strain of total discomfort from her and shuffled around her to do the same on the other side. 

This was madness and almost nerve-wracking, like he was a kidnapper and she his frightened captive, whom he didn’t want running odd and calling the authorities, and it wasn’t until she remembered him saying that it was her attention he sought that she found the whole scene arousing. He wanted her to shut out everything from her mind but him and the sound of his voice, that incredible booming voice she could listen to for all eternity, and that had her heart racing. No, scratch that, her heart squirming and her bones aching with anticipation with what he was to really do with her, with her body and the control she had of her senses.


	30. Chapter 30

“Does she really?” She cooed with a bite of her lip, wiggling her backside against the satin duvet, all the while watching him intently. His hands had been up to no good binding her to his bed, making the sweat drift through every pore in a mix of lust and anxiety, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She couldn’t drag herself away from this, from the heat rising between them even if a mercenary was pointing a gun to her head. This scenario was unexpected and unlike anything she was used to, in fact he was unlike anyone she was accustomed to and if it was a crime to want it then she was more than willing to pay the price.

“Oh ya...black stripe I should think...” He snorted, hovering over her with a hand slithering up her ankle, fingers undoing the buckle of her shoes. Shoes, especially heels colliding with a clean bed, it was a pet peeve and they had to come off, but more importantly, it gave the impression that he wanted her comfortable for this and that was choice. Tricking her into blind trust...well that was the name of the game, the point of every chivalrous gesture and that was the extent of it.  
“Sensei’s so good to me...the best...” She hummed, smiling in a heated daze, body going pleasantly numb as she felt his fingers collide with her flesh. He’d touched her not long ago and there was nothing new about it, but every caress, light or otherwise was always fresh with Silver. Any and every touch caught the breath in her lungs, leaving her weak and smiling like it was the very first time.

“The best because of you, Beautiful, compliment goes both ways...” He nodded with a tilt of his head and a piercing glance, sliding the shoes off her feet and tossing them aside without regard. With what he had planned, and with what he wanted to do, her shoes were of no importance, besides they looked cheap anyway. He could buy her ten or maybe a hundred other ones that would fare better than those awful things, and it didn’t matter that they were silver in color.

Eyeing his careless disregard for the shoes, she nearly cringed as they were her favorite pair, one of its kind; the last in the store, but when she felt his hand slither up her leg and under her dress she adjusted her focus once again, upon him and nothing else. Thrilled and on edge for a different reason entirely, she gasped as he slid between her arched legs and allowed agile fingers that so delicately bandaged her hand, to reach through the lined brim of her panties and slip them off in one quick swoop, tossing them aside too, like crumbled paper in a wastebasket. She cared about her property, the clothing that fit on her back, and having a man be so oblivious, was always an issue. Yet with Silver, in the course of something so intimate, much like she so quickly did with the shoes, she had no desire to give his actions much thought.

“Part your legs, Senpai and shut your eyes...” He instructed, slithering his frame from the center of the bed to a standing position, tossing her a callous grin and biting down hard on his own tongue to contain that surge of lust coursing through his veins. His hallow Veteran heart was beating rapidly, with insurmountable thirst, but he’d only just begun.

Like an obedient child, waiting patiently for her teacher, oddly enough being called “Senpai”, she did again as she was told. Slowly with a languid breath, a smile stretching across her face, unable to fathom being there let alone committing to such a thing, she shut her eyes and let her legs speak for themselves. Softened knees and the thighs attached, that were once so tense and uneasy, separated from one another at will with no reservations in sight. Two limbs, like gates to a wonderous valley, an oasis of pleasure, slid open for him and him alone, like he were Moses and they, the Red raging Sea. Magic was at play here, even in the most sensual, most erotic of experiences, possessing her to do what captivated his desire and what was perhaps against the norm. If you would have told her all but a year ago, when the thought of suicide gripped her fallen heart, that she’d be with a man who was willing to give her his all, let alone be tied to his bed with passion burgeoning, she would have failed to believe it. 

“Now...you’re going to feel something...something I want you to describe...” He hissed with eyebrows furrowing forward, blue eyes drowning in excitement, only much of that sensation was rooted in something mischievous and nearly sinister. Delighting in his taste and desire for what was wild and twisted, he slipped one knee upon the bed, closer to the nectarous organ that lay exposed under the tightest thread of black, and slithered the edge of his finger up and down against her clit. “Tell me how it feels, Beautiful...” He reiterated, grinning to himself upon his own amusement, becoming a little more vigorous with his touch, but it was nowhere near rough, not yet at least. 

“Warm, teases, don’t tease me Sensei...don’t...” She nearly begged with a smile and a subtle whine, her backside lifting off the bed by an inch, already feeling pangs of sweat rise through her tanned flesh. She knew what instrument had begun it’s composition, it’s symphonic masterpiece, and though she quickly insisted upon him keeping himself from taunting her and speed to last overture, she wanted none of it. She wanted to experience everything he had to offer, everything his robust hands wished to do. 

Don’t tease me...don’t tease me...The purr of these words came as a demand, but they were subtle, nearly hushed and naturally, Terry had no intention of catering to it, harbored no plan to adhere to it. The point of this entry was to make her suffer: suffer deliciously in need, and to quit now, taking away from that final bit of satisfaction, would be an imposition. “Like music to my ears...tell me more Beautiful.” He sighed with a click of his tongue, his entire mouth nearly salivating as he deliberately ignored her softened plea. He’d ingested what she had to say, took it in, and yet like a rabid dog, Terry Silver was deaf to listen, too bullheaded and focused on what he craved and this wouldn’t end here.


	31. Chapter 31

“Sensei I can’t...” She murmured and groaned inaudibly in a mix of pleasure and pain as his finger brimming with expertise flicking away at her sex, her hands tensing against the gauze. The gauze was tough, strong, but the more he prodded and poked at her sacred place, the more she believed it wouldn’t hold. He’d only just started, but her will to hang on was already deteriorating rapidly with every touch. The only bit of strength she had left seemed to reside in her wrist and fingers, and if she wasn’t given the chance to implode soon the gauze would surely be torn in half. Like a woman who’s sense of touch, smell, sound and taste were sharper and more powerful as a result of blindness, her fingers virtually free from the gauze binding, were just as strong. 

“Yes you can Senpai, for me, do it for me...” He replied, miming a pout and chuckling to himself as he felt his arousal reach a whole new height of intensity, while his finger continued to press into her. Seeing her squirm in agony, torment that only implied desire, set both mind and body ablaze, and pushed his ego to egg her on even further. What he was doing to her loins, what he in conjunction to his fingertips made her feel, held no really significance to him other than to sedate his need for power and he couldn’t deny that it was more than a little exciting. It was thrilling to watch her abandon all self control, to observe her giving into him and pleasure, and he simply wanted more of it. One who made women cry tears of joy, scream in ecstasy against his touch, who made one feel like they were home in his hands and in his arms, was the perfect man, and likewise the perfect character with which to deceive. Oh darling you’re everything to me...Oh sweetheart we are one in the same you and I...Senpai, I love you...All these things that were painful to say, all these meaningless words strung together, combined with his actions, had the aim of destroying her, and that destruction, lit a fire so large and so impossible to extinguish, under his feet. Ruining lesser people’s lives for sport, just so he could control them body and soul, was a game to Terry Silver, a horrible game and he adored every minute of it. 

“I’m so close Terry, please don’t make me do this...I just want you inside me...” She moaned sharply against her teeth, repeating herself as she leaned the edge of her ankle into his arm and felt her toes curl up against the sating duvet. She was in a sense doing just that, begging, pleading with him to just make love to her again and forget all this. As different, as pleasurable and as thrilling as the game was, she couldn’t take the heat, the torture of it anymore. She craved 

And there it was with a sweet, divine ring...the very thing his words and the force of his finger meant to achieve, the total demise of her body, the full speed nose dive of her soul into the pool of total unquenchable thirst. The desire to feel that nothing he did intimately was enough, that nothing his dexterous hands tried to do was enough to fill her hope chest of devotion. Her describing what he did ,better yet what his finger did and what it felt like was all but a means to an end, he didn’t care one way or another. It was just thrilling to see what she could come up with, what she could possibly brag about and fill her dreams, but that was the extend of it. What he really wanted was her calling out for his body; that godlike frame for which he’d trained extensively, roughly and tirelessly, and he couldn’t help but smile wider than ever before when he’d come to receive it.

“Shh it’s okay, Beautiful, it’s okay, I won’t make you do anything else.” He hummed, arching himself above her with a devious smirk he was so glad he’d kept her from seeing and a comforting caress at the side of her face. He had her where he wanted her again and the joy was indescribable and the lust in him once again through the proverbial roof. Addiction, toying with her was an addiction for which he wanted no counseling, a twisted, deliciously gnawing disease for which he wanted no cure and there was nothing else to say. “Just keep your eyes closed for a moment longer and I’ll be with you...” He insisted, maintaining that ever crooked grin, sweating with delight as skilled fingers worked their magic with the buttons of his shirt, and the clip of his linen trousers, uncovering that body most if not all, couldn’t possibly resist.


	32. Chapter 32

“Open your eyes, Senpai...” He directed with a heated smile, stripped to his feet of his clothing, and taking a good look at himself in the mirror opposite, before climbing once more upon the lush bed. He was perfection in every sense of the word. Not a single muscle was left shapeless and loose, his arms shredded, his hips and legs fibrous, he was a true work of art, and he couldn’t keep himself from being astonished. He was glorious and it was really no wonder that women and even some men, though he’d never swing that way, couldn’t dart their eyes from him. Bernini couldn’t sculpt anything finer than him, he was a certified national treasure if he could say so himself, and the thought of it flattered his ego to no end.

A smile spread across her sweat ensconced face at the sight, when she finally clicked open her eyes, and her heart was once more enchanted at what she’d come to find. There he was, her man, her older gentleman in all his abundance and majesty, in the flesh and still she couldn’t believe it. Robust, untamed in his sexuality, loving and charitable was this epic man, and the fact that she of all people had pulled at his heart strings, was almost unreal.

“Hello again, I’ve missed you...” He nodded with a click of his tongue, eyes still crinkled into a smile as he dragged his knuckles repeatedly against the inside of her thigh. His eyes were loving, gentle in that grin, but of course like everything else from the get go, this too was as extravagant and just as overdramatized.

“And I you...” She tossed back with a twinkle in her eye, a dazed glassy expression, mouth lacking in any sort of response that wasn’t somehow lame. Terry took from her, her consciousness, her sense of logic and consumed her thoughts and there was frankly nothing left to govern much of anything that went on or was said. All she cared about and all she could focus on, was him and the way he touched her, not at all cognizant of how sweetly it played upon her emotions. Terry Silver, Sensei Silver was the man of her dreams, and he had the slightest knowledge of it, perhaps none at all.

“You’re so pretty, can’t believe no ones really told you so before...” He nearly whispered, arching himself above her, a hand reaching forward to cup at the face he so tenderly searched through. She meant nothing to him, was nothing but a treat for the senses; a thing to touch and eventually discard, but he couldn’t let his blue eyes lie and claim that her youthful beauty was just as meaningless. “Let’s get this off of you, I want to see every inch of my beautiful girl...” He smiled, leaning into a luxurious kiss, a kiss that would leave her breathless much like the first he’d ever planted upon her lips.

“Believe it...You’re the lucky one, baby...” She nodded, drawing her lips away with a shrugging smile, painted with both a touch of sadness and joy. He’d dragged out her truth again, that she’d only been described as such once and that depressed her, but knowing he was the soul trying his luck with the term, made her feel a hell of a lot better. In the moment, that fragment of time, there was no one else in the world from whom she wanted to receive such a compliment. There was no one she wanted to hear from more, than the man who loved her with all his might: the one she was now connected to spiritually and by blood, if she had to be at all graphic. Terry was her savior for lack of a better word, and the avenging angel she’d been waiting for, as pathetic as that could come across. 

“I don’t wanna believe it...” He shook his head, his expression flipping towards the somber, nearly pitying her as his hand slipped from her face to the headboard, bracing himself, while the other settled upon the top of the dress. “But I can promise you that you’ll never have to feel like you’re not, not with me...” There flew another empty promise, another thing to declare and guarantee without proper thought. When one’s mind was as preoccupied with making a mess of her, of ripping her emotions to shreds, he lacked the will and the desire to even consider the consequences of such a thing. The things he had planned for her, would keep her from feeling beautiful in the long run, and would in fact shatter her thrice broken heart completely, but that wasn’t a concern for him in the moment. It made no real difference to him what happened to her or that tattered organ, nothing was more important than what seemed to exist within Terry Silver.

“I don’t deserve you, Terence Silver...” She sighed with tears in her eyes, as she crinkled her shoulders inward, allowing his fingers to do their bidding with the thinnest of straps.

“But you do Beautiful...you do”. He insisted with eyes fixed upon her, pulling the fitted dress off her frame, revealing that taut figure, that near adolescent physique that made the pulse of his blackened heart irregular and the pull of his manhood unnerving. “I won’t tolerate that kind of talk...please Doll...I won’t...” He exclaimed in a serious tone after discarding the Gucci, suddenly grabbing at her face with both hands, almost frightfully disturbed. There was no anger in him, no shred of true concern for her need to self deprecate, and this was Terry Silver going for the gold. This was him gunning for that Purple Heart or even the Medal of Honor he never received in the War, nothing more and nothing less.

“I just can’t help it...” She replied, her tone a little uneasy and her body shivering in her undergarments, but her heart finding comfort in his desire to keep such painful thoughts away from her spirit. It was endearing . “Forgive me?”

“I’ll try...” He sighed, tilting his head into another grin, hands slipping from their grip upon her face and drifting over her breasts. “For you, I’ll try...” He repeated with a nod and a deep breath, unclasping her bra effortlessly, all the while watching her become more aroused and more needy for his touch. Having all the time in the world, now that he had her under his wing completely, there was no need to go about this fast, he could take his time with her and really enjoy it, despite the desire to tear through her like a madman again. He wanted to feel every gyration, hear every moan, feel every inch of her body grow tense and suddenly find it’s release. He’d secured her in every sense of the word, and now he craved nothing more than to sit back and revel in it. Smiling at the thought of doing just that, he leaned into her, his abdomen nearly grazing her flesh and drove his fingers towards her sides, removing that last bit of fabric that separated them. 

So lost was she in how he moved, the way his hands ran across her body, removing the lace still clinging to her hips, that she’d nearly forgotten that she was still tied to the headboard, that her naked body lay there virtually helpless. Much of what he’d done had been almost deviant, and the warm feeling derived from it was rather unusual but somehow it all seemed natural now. All too quickly it felt as though they were meant to do the things they did, that she was meant to feel the way she did, and that they were intrinsically linked to one another, like Adam and Eve with a part of her ribs slithered into his ribcage by the hands of God. “You make me feel whole, for the first time in my life, I’m whole...Terry.” She admitted with warm, smiling eyes glossing over his sturdy physique and his soft dark hair her bound hands burned to touch, as he left a trail of kisses down her neck and upon her breasts. “Let me love you...let me feel you...” She hissed tenderly, lovingly leaning her softened lips into the edge of his ear, feeling his hardening manhood against the edge of her thigh. He’d given her so much, handed her his love and his honor on a silver plate; something no one had ever done, and if pleasing him was all she could give him in return, than so be it. “Untie me...let me be good to you Sensei...” She moaned, lifting her head back and forth in mad desire, as she felt his mouth drift towards her mound, her ankles nearly pressing into his shoulder, aiding in her plea. 

He wanted to keep her latched to her position on the bed, taking what he gave her, and letting him demolish her senses completely, but what she was inclined to do was far too tempting. Terry was rather committed to letting her squirm beneath him, unable to do anything but take in his splendor, but what she wanted to do would glorify him and that sounded a lot better. “Beautiful, you give me my youth, you give me my childhood back...the childhood I never really had...” He lied, drawing his lips away from her bare flesh with an adoring grin and rising from between her legs, his fingers caressing at her cheek before shifting to free her from her shackles of ivory gauze. Tang Soo Do gave him his youth. Tang Soo Do kept his mind sharp, powerful, and the money he had made him feel invincible, but if making her believe she had some part in it led her to dotting on him, then he was all for it. For the slightest sample of pleasure she could provide and for what she'd felt compelled do to show her unsullied devotion, he'd tell her anything outlandish and obscene. Hell, he'd even tell her he was the crowned prince of some remote, insignificant island in the South Pacific, where Dynatox once dumped a stock of toxic waste for all he cared.


	33. Chapter 33

Emancipating her from her bound state, just as she’d asked, marking the last time he catered to her, he slithered to an upright position against the headboard, watching her crawl towards him on her hands and knees, like an alluring alley cat with a bite of her lip. So far removed was she from the timid kitten she’d been when she first walked into his life, and knowing that he was the culprit, made his head whirl pleasantly. Her destruction, her ruin, had just begun and it looked lovely, settling upon her.

“You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met Sensei...” She looked up at him with a sultry smile, running her hand over his manhood. “So incredible...” She moaned, feeling such firmness against her fingertips, her body shivering with a sense of indecent delight that was nearly beyond her. Whether she liked it or not, her feelings and her thirst for Terry Silver had flung her into the gutter and there was no turning back. The old Claudia Macleod was no more. The girl who was more or less a prude, though she’d done enough with a handful of men under the influence of alcohol, now felt like an immoralist. The sweet Persephone in her, whatever innocence and purity she had left, lay nearly defiled, nearly drowning in filth, and she wasn’t at all perturbed. She had no longer had any qualms, any issue in being the “Dirty Diana”, so long as she was his Dirty Diana.

She begged him to keep her from describing what his hands felt like against her warm, heaving cunt and it was a little disappointing, but this definitely made up for it. This would be a more direct, first person stroke of his ego, for lack of a better word, and it made him giddier than a schoolboy. Only he wouldn’t force her into any compliment, any accolade to his person, he’d sit back and let them fall from her plump lips, as he knew they would. “Beautiful, you make me feel incredible...” He cooed with a subtle groan, eyes knocking back against the headboard. How wonderful, another lie...but what did it matter really? “Tell me you love me...” He hummed, returning his glance upon her face, and drawing his hand to base of her chin with a heated grin.

“I love you Sensei...” She replied, hazel eyes fixed upon him with unfiltered alliegence, slithering onto her stomach, legs drifting behind her and taking the tip of his erect cock between her lips.

“Say my name Beautiful...” He moaned with a smirking lick of his lip, feeling that first bit of softness and moisture slipping over his rigid flesh.

“Terry Silver...I adore you”. She sighed lovingly, drawing away from his cock and peering up at him, awaiting a positive reaction like a lap dog did it’s owner when committing itself to obedience. “So much, so much more than I thought...” She hummed with a smile, upon eyeing the languid, nearly pleased expression forming upon his perfect visage. So quickly he’d made her the happiest, the luckiest girl in the village and so rapidly, with a sense of maddening glee, did she return her lips to their former position. Like a woman cut off from the mortal world, she couldn’t really comprehend the accelerated pace or the moral implications this romance could have upon his relationship to her late uncle, and it was doubtful that she’d care if she did. Terry Silver was the love of her life; her soulmate and nothing was much of a concern to her, if at all. Soulmates, though she’d questioned her faith in them for some time, were once in a lifetime and she’d found it in Terry. Terry had rekindled, had reinstated her belief and she’d be damned if she ever let him slip away.

Adore you, more than I thought...how perfect. How wonderful and serendipitous was it to feel more love then intended from another? Well...he didn’t really know the answer to that anymore, nor did he care to remember, yet he loved hearing the phrase spilling out of her with his cock in her mouth. To him it only solidified what he already knew, that the admiration he’d conned her into, covered her with wonderous disbelief, had her pleasantly overwhelmed and it gave him the incentive to push her limits. “Hmm I can tell...this is sublime, your sublime Beautiful...” He groaned into a relaxed smirk, drawing a hand to the back of her head. “You make me feel like a new man...a truly loved man...” He sighed, maintaining that smirk and running his ring adorned pinky gently through her darkened locks, playing on her heartstrings again, connecting once more with the forsaken Vietnam vet nearly dead to him.

Her ears, she couldn’t believe her sober ears. He felt like a new man because of her? It was unreal, almost impossible and her heart sank in all this perversion and crudeness. She couldn’t fathom meaning so much to him, to someone like him no matter how many times and how strongly he insisted that she was everything. It wasn’t his sexual experience or his good looks that made her wallow in disbelief, but his stature and class. He was a man of greatness, a man who was going places with a future still bright, and being able to appreciate a girl who had nothing going for her, blew her mind. It stunned the girl who had practically begged for a job, the girl who just wanted to survive and had never expected to fall in love, and it made her suckle at his pulsing manhood harder and with more devotion.

“Mmm my sweet girl...my Silver sweet girl...I’m so very hard, hard for you...” He hummed without conscious thought, as he felt much of it slip away, his fingers gripping roughly now upon her hair. Boy did it feel good, like he’d won the lottery. Her dampened lips and tongue felt like heaven wrapped around his manhood, but he was spewing anything now, anything to encourage her and he didn’t care what emotional affect his words could have on her. Whether it made her ecstatic, if it made her cry of joy or want to scream, it didn’t really matter so long as he had ultimate pleasure and the upper hand.

“You gonna cum for me, Mr. Silver?” She said, lifting her upper lip just enough to speak, her eyes full of worship for that numbed expression on that handsome face she loved almost dearly. Never had she done this without the influence of one too many short ones of bourbon, without a true pattern self destruction or the onset of a blackout, but it was happening nonetheless and she couldn’t help the words slipping from her mouth.

“Mmm yes...” He moaned roughly, almost squealing for added glory, though he felt his legs and his thighs nearly bursting into flames. She was nothing to him but goddamn it if she wasn’t marvelous, so talented with that mouth for such an innocent, fractured girl. “Harder love, faster but don’t call me Mister...” He chuckled breathlessly with eyes shut, driving his hands to either side of her face, nails practically digging into her flesh. God she was magic, such sweet magic and just before he could nearly thank his sadistic spirit for gifting him such a woman, his knees buckled, his manhood tensed wonderfully in her mouth and there he imploded again without warning. “Ah...Macleod, you’ve really done it now...” He hissed with a dazed grin upon maddening release, extending his fingers about her scalp with elation, his perspiring backside resting comfortably now against satin. “Thank you my Angel...” He whispered, thinking gratitude was exactly what she wanted to hear as he slid his fingers closer to the edge of her no doubt, tingling mouth.

“Least I could do...” She moaned, smiling up at him tenderly, letting go of his softening cock, only to swallow him whole, relishing in what was bittersweet. “Least I could do for you...” She nodded, wiping gently at her lip with the back of her head and rising up from between his legs to kiss at his lips. “I really do love you Terry Silver...”

“Feelings mutual, Beautiful...” He grinned against her lips and slid her up on top of him, his fingers slithering over her skin languidly, lying just as he’d done umpteenth times before. “Now let me do something for you...” He sighed, maintaining that loving, fraudulent grin with a lift of his brow, drifting his fingertips over her backside, squeezing at her flesh.


	34. Chapter 34

“You don’t have to Terry...it’s alright, you’ve done enough really.” She sighed with a softened smile, running her hands over the center of his strapping chest, caressing gently at the few greying hairs she’d found there. She loved the way his fingers fondled her flesh, the way his strong lips took hold of her, and nearly destroyed her every time. She couldn’t resist him or his near insatiable appetite, but now, she wished to lay in the comfort of his arms and bask in the glory of him, her beautiful lover. She wanted to lay there sprawled upon him, feeling his heartbeat against her chest, but it seemed like he wanted her to feel the same thing in a different way, and she wasn’t entirely sure she could say no.

“Shh...I want to...” He insisted, dragging the index of one hand to her lips briefly, while the other pushed her further towards him by her backside, his Johnson hardening again oddly enough. He’d make love to her again, only this time softly, gently, and even let her be the one on top, attempting to be less domineering, just this once. He wanted to take this slow, have her really feel the weight and strength of his love, though every fateful ounce of it was fake. “I want you to feel what I feel...Come closer, Beautiful”. He urged, shifting up against the bed and letting go of her lower back, only to take up both of her hands.

Lacking self control, which was quickly becoming commonplace with Terry Silver, she bit her lip into a sheepish grin she couldn’t fight, and slid her parted legs up to either side of him to get closer, pausing as she felt his stiffening manhood against her thigh. “Here?” She asked, tossing her hair back with a tilt of her head, feeling her body warming up to him and for him already. No matter how exhausted she’d come to be, his impenetrable passion for her, something she’d never truly seen in a man, quelled any desire alive in her to take a break.

“No Dollface, closer, here let me...” He shook his head with a silent chuckle, slipping his fingers away from hers and grabbing a hold of her hips, setting her upon his cock. “There...right there, relax against me Senpai...”He groaned softly in a bright shade of ecstasy too soon but worth it, as her cunt was the warmest it had ever been and wet enough that he fit in smoothly, effortlessly. Holding her steady over his manhood, watching her naked body bounce upon him subtly, all he could think of was the end result; the sweat ensconced wreckage of Claudia Macleod, and his heart pounded madly. Her body capsizing, collapsing upon him, her senses unable to fathom what had overcome her, like a flash of some miracle, was for him, the living end; a divine treat for the god in him.

Feeling the decadent throb of his manhood against her sacred place and that numbing burn in her legs, she nearly relinquished her devices and her reservations. Again like a man who’d experienced all that life had to offer succumbing to a fatal disease, she’d given up and given in to him. She knew she was losing and would lose a piece of her every time he touched her, every time he entered her, but it was a loss she was more than willing to tolerate. “You’re my ruin ...” She moaned, dipping into him and running her forehead over his, smiling in a quixotic daze. “And my world, Terry Silver...” These six words, foolishly meaning so much in such little time, was of no consequence to her. This was just love, love she had for the Vietnam Veteran, more than a few years her senior and she couldn’t really understand how or why he had such a hold on her, but she hadn’t the will to make sense of it. All she knew, was that in the moment, she couldn’t really go on existing without it should it manage to disappear.

What beautiful declarations, what beautiful sounds they truly made, what an ego consuming echo they spread, and Terry Silver was no longer just a billionaire, who fashioned himself as a kind of deity. Terry Silver was in actuality a god in the flesh for managing to fling her into relentless devotion and submission like magic, with the wave of his hand. He’d done this to many women, he had a history with the act, and it never really mattered but with her it did. Claudia Macleod was a choice even Satan would frown upon and that made all the difference in the world. “Beautiful, there’s no one else in the world I’d want to leave in ruins, you’ve turned my life upside down...” He groaned with mimed honesty and candor, running his hands over her belly and caressing his way to her heaving breasts. “There’s no one else for me, can’t forget that you’re my girl, ...” He smirked, feeling her sex tightening around him and watching as her eyes fell shut. She was reaching climax he could sense it and within him there were tremors of delight, believing that his lies, his fabricated words of praise were bringing her closer to the edge. There was something to be said truly, about the power of falsehoods in the complicated task of wooing somebody, and Terry reveled in it.

“Tell me again, tell me I’m your girl...” She hissed, nearly growling as she felt her chest rise, and her heartbeat syncopate madly. There was an eagerness in her naturally, and it was only driven further into madness by his sweet clips of phrase and warm caress. It was funny and rather pathetic how the love of a man, could accomplish this feat, but she’d truly have it no other way and not to sound like a broken record, to her, it meant everything.

“You’re my girl, my only girl...” He sighed, grinning deviously and lifting his head up closer to kiss at her soft abdomen, thrusting hard into her one last time.

“Ah T...Terry...I...” She groaned through gritted teeth, clenching against him roughly with crimson fingernails nearly burrowing into the taut flesh of his clavicle. “I love....Terry I love you...” She breathed upon release in a euphoric grin, suddenly hugging at his shoulders, drained completely of her strength in the most pleasurably way possible; at the hands of her man. In this state of ecstasy, she saw a flash of heaven and hell behind sealed eyelids, and now understood why the French called an orgasm little death and how one could possibly die of too much love.


	35. Chapter 35

“Mm love you too...” He moaned in respite, kissing at her breasts with an amused grin and wrapping his arms around her waist, returning the rapturous embrace. “Move in with me...Beautiful...” He urged breathlessly with a nod, lifting his head from her softened chest, his words conscious in thought. Such a suggestion was drastic, and it carried with it, a level of commitment he hadn’t faced in ages and even forgotten what it was like, but still he decided to take the risk. Terry Silver didn’t accept permanent house guests, hell not even temporary ones unless they went by the name John Kreese, and especially not women, but making an exception now, made sense. He couldn’t maintain control if he sent her home every night, no, if he let her go home every night to her four walls, her normal existence full of distractions. He couldn’t chance her straying away from this and from him, even if the possibility was slim. He had a dozen extra rooms, ample space and she’d have to stay there, there was nothing else to it. Of course it was a lot to ask, moving in would mean she’d have to rearrange not just her schedule but her entire life, but neither his twisted mind nor his conscience really gave a damn.

Move in...Move in? Jesus, like into his mansion? Wow he really was in love and in deep...It was an obscure appeal, perhaps just as obscure as drawing a knife to her flesh to signify and establish their forever. She’d adore living there, taking advantage of all the amenities and spending nearly every waking moment with him, but what about Janet? What would Janet think? She’d lose control, she’d be a confused wreck, but would she be alone? No, she did have friends, at least a handful who came around often enough to keep her company, and she spent a lot time at work. So no, she was never really completely alone. Janet kept herself preoccupied regularly to avoid the pain of missing Frank, that she failed to take much notice of what was happening around her, least of all Claudia’s woes and concerns. Janet still loved Claudia deeply, and she’d make a fuss over her, there was no question of that, but she wasn’t quick to jump on things. Most of the time one had to inform her of what was going on, otherwise she was kind of oblivious. Now, of course that wasn’t rationale to pack up and move in with Silver, but it was definitely something to think about. “Terry, Baby I...I...” She sighed with widened eyes, drifting her hands to either side of his face. “I adore you...with every inch of me, I adore you, but I think maybe that would be us moving too fast, too soon...” She nodded with a subtle sense of urgency to her voice, her tongue going dry as she noticed the sudden concerning look to his stunning blue eyes.

Moving too fast, too soon...What a joke! What did she honestly think they were doing on his couch, and on his bed? Playing leisurely games shuffleboard on some geriatric cruise? They were rushing at things, jetting through the early stages of an intimate relationship the minute she put on the gee, yet somehow she’d convinced herself otherwise? Damn she was a bigger fool than he thought, so blessed was she to at least have good looks in her favor. The thought of her being this clueless, was disturbing even by his standards, but he had keep his cool and pretend that everything was understandable. “Is it your aunt...the money? Because I’d still pay you for the office work, I mean you’ll have a check in the mail for her weekly, I can promise you that Beautiful...” He said in somewhat of a desperate tone and an insisting nod, sliding his hands over her backside haphazardly, caressing at tender flesh.

“She’d be somewhat of a mess without me, but it’s...there’s more to it than that...” She cooed with a pained bite of her lip, drawing a loose strand of hair away from his forehead with her index, her heart burning and crumbling into ashes in her chest.

“Then what, Beautiful? Tell me...”

“It’s Frank...”

There it was...even from beyond the grave, the stupid son of a bitch was making a mess of things, trying to soil his plans. Even in Vietnam the guy managed to fuck up almost every mission and anything he touched. It was too bad the draft couldn’t be selective, because Frank Macleod was useless and a complete waste of military spending.  
“What about Frank?” He sighed with a deep huff, rather annoyed with the code speech and her beating around the bush, though he tilted his jaw to kiss at the edge of her hand. This was him fighting a war with patience, with his sense of tolerance, and if his plan wasn’t so important and if she wasn’t pressed up against him naked he’d have done his best to break her in half.

“You were his friend...I feel like I’m complicating the memories...the memories of him...” She said listlessly, her heart nearly breaking in the face of and from the strength of his dragging kiss. She could tell he needed her to say yes like it was life or death but the thought of Frank was holding her down now. First it was Janet, now this and it played with her emotions.

“Frank would have been fine with this, believe me Baby Doll, he’d have wanted you to be happy, happy for once...” He nodded, curling his dimples into a sincere grin, his fingers still fondling her bare back. “And to be cared for...this is what soldiers do Angel, we take care of our own...the loved ones of our own...” He added, peering into her visage, and being genuine about something he never took seriously unless it was John Kreese in question. It was an obnoxious unwritten military pact, he despised, but bringing it up to her was a sure fire way of garnering the positive response he was looking for. He could almost guarantee with little doubt that she’d find it endearing and touching enough to forget about old meaningless Frank.

Would Frank have thought it was a’ okay for Silver to look after her? Sure, of course, Frank practically worshiped Terry and he’d deeply appreciate it. Yet for Frank to have no issue with her being involved with Silver in an intimate and romantic capacity, well, that was a toss up. Whether Frank would consider it as Terry taking advantage of her dire situation, of her or just an acceptable act of nature for them to fall in love, she had no clue and suddenly she felt trapped. Trapped between a rock and hard place, when suddenly it hit her that maybe Terry also knew something about Frank that she didn’t and if nothing else, he was a firm believer in true love. He’d found it in Janet, and to say no to this would make him a hypocrite, so she had that on her side too. To her Terry was right and true. Terry was the truest form of love she’d ever really known and Frank couldn’t possibly deny her of that, not after everything she’d done for him when he was alive. “I...I don’t know Terry...” She mused indecisively, biting her lip continuously like a madwoman, dragging her palms to his chest, one hand feeling at his heartbeat. It was beating loudly and nearly irregular, and she couldn’t help but smile thinking she was the root cause.

“Say yes, just say yes...I want to wake up to this face, this soft face in the morning, smiling at me, letting me kiss you like this...” He grinned softly, slipping his hands over her wrists and kissing her adoringly, but rough enough to make her weak and show her what she’d miss out on if she managed to decline his offer. “Please don’t keep me from this, from you, don’t break my heart Beautiful...” He begged, pulling his lips from hers with a fraught, longing glance, blue eyes on the verge of tears. Another stellar bit of acting, if he could say so himself.  
Janet wouldn’t take this very well, she knew that, but she’d be damned if she’d turn away from this and from his lonely, war-torn heart that beat in such duress for her. Janet’s grief, her sadness over her departure would just have to be part of life, something she’d have to accept, because the love of Terry Silver was too big a thing to part with. “I..If you’ll promise me an omelet every morning with that kiss, then you have yourself a roommate.” She nearly whispered happily with a lift of her brow, nuzzling her forehead against his, her arms wrapping around his neck. It was a silly verbal response, but her lame sense of humor was something she always leaned on when faced with a tense situation or when the even the most pleasant of nerves ate away at her, and the bind she was in with Silver, was the definition of both of those things.

“You can have ten...” He smirked sliding away from her forehead with widened eyes. “I’m over the moon, over the goddamn moon...God, I love you Claudia...” He growled madly, overcome with a sense of elation that seemed larger life as he lifted her up in his arms, and slammed her down on the bed, kissing her like he’d never done before. This was the defining moment of this venture, and giving her a kiss that bared the intensity of Clarke Gable on screen, felt justified.


	36. Chapter 36

With the crackle of the mid-morning sun through the soft shutters, Terry slit open his eyes to find her sleeping there, curled into his side, fingers resting sweetly upon his chest. He knew this day would be different than the last, out of the ordinary because of her, because of their pact and he couldn’t keep himself from a smile as large as the earth itself. Slithering out from under her gently, lifting her hand from his chest, he gazed upon her in wonder tainted with a touch of something more mischievous. She was bewitching in her natural state, chest heaving with each soft exhale against the satin sheets, and even then he failed to think twice about his efforts to cripple that beauty being at all problematic. To him bringing chaos and destroying people’s lives like the plague was justified, for all the damage they’d done onto him before and after the war, and she wasn’t an exception, no matter how young nor how beautiful. Society deserved its demise in any and every form, and that sentiment alone came to explain why he’d gotten into the business of toxic waste management and why there was more cluttering up than actual management. He wanted the world to suffer just as it had made him suffer, sending him off to fight a war he had no interest in fighting and allowing that drunkard to get behind the wheel and crash into his parents, leaving them to dust.

“Mmm Morning...” She murmured groggily with a dazed, crinkled smile, nuzzling her lips against his shoulder blade. It was unusual to find herself in another’s bed, in his bed more so than anyone else’s, never having imagined it, but it felt right. For this, for the chance to prolong this love, she had decided to put a hold on everything in her life, set a course for making everyone in her life a little unhappy without her presence, and she couldn’t find a shred of guilt within. It was almost as if Terry had taken the criminality out of this slip of narcissism, along with the whole of her heart and she was existing in a sort of limbo of complacency.

“Good morning, Lover...” He grinned, drawing his ring adorned knuckles to her jaw and kissing her in return. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you slept well this time...” He chuckled, taking up her hand and toying with it against the creeping light, maintaining the sweet image of him she’d fallen for. The pleasant soft, let me sweep you off your feet Romeo, was the anthesis of Terry Silver, but if it kept the charade going and played with her emotions then it was a mask he’d just have to wear.

“Best sleep I ever had...” She laughed silently, watching as he tickled and caressed the tip of nearly every finger, being so very gentle with her like she was a porcelain doll, or something you could shatter into a million pieces if you were to drop it. He didn’t have to treat her this way, not now after the bit of pleasurable roughness he’d already displayed, the way he’d come at her at full force though overflowing with manic love but she wasn’t going take the moment away from him. “Of course that’s just me volunteering that information...” She snorted softly, driving her hand away from his and suddenly flipping herself over him with her new found aura of love, her body arched just above him. 

“And I’m just as happy that you did...” He gasped, nearly startled with a toothy grin at her abrupt jump across, catching her back in his arms. “Someone’s full of energy this morning...glad to be of service...” He joked, lifting his legs up around her, locking her into him, into a warm, tantalizing morning embrace, done just as suddenly. Whether it was more sex she was inching for, alluding to, or just wanting to bask in the beauty of their bodies clinging to one another, he was more than a little willing to comply. After all, anything that could or would serve to glorify him even for a short while, was always going to be worth his while. 

“So...what are we going to do today, Mr. Silver?” She asked, kissing away at his chest, loving the way his taut skin felt against her dry morning lips; the delicious way they softened her mouth.

“Well first, you’re not gonna call me Mr. Silver...we’re way passed that now Beautiful...” He chuckled sardonically with a lift of his brow, running his fingers through her bedhead, twirling the soft ends against his flesh. There it was the Mister Silver again, and while he couldn’t say he disliked it, as it gave him a certain level of respect, it was getting rather annoying; becoming an irritating thing to sway her from. “Then I was thinking we’d hop over to Rodeo, get you some new clothes, can’t wear that silver dress or that gee the whole time your here...”

“Right...Dry cleaning bill would be through the roof...” She laughed with a deep nod, circling her arms around him, drowning complete in joy, not at all cognizant of how stupid she came to sound. Claudia had a ton of clothes, her closet at home was stocked full, but naturally none of it was of quality nor all that professional, and the idea of going home to pack everything up didn’t settle very well. She wouldn’t hear the end of it with Janet and the questions, well the questions would be never ending, so of course, in a sense, she had to say yes.

“I mean I’d have no trouble seeing you get into the gee every day...but yes, we can’t have that...” He grinned with a shake of his head, letting go of her hair and drawing his palms to either side of her face, brushing the edge of his fingers against her cheeks. This was a slip up of the real McCoy, the flirtatious stylings of the real Terry Silver not the fake counterpart but he didn’t care. Terry knew how to be raunchy and when to be raunchy, but he could control himself better than anyone. Give her a bit of spice, but keep your words sweet and tender, that would be the technique this time around. It was perfect, and in any case, she was already a lost cause when it came to comprehending anything that didn’t involve this false love and what he said, didn’t really matter. Anything could be uttered, anything could be mentioned and she’d eat it up with a spoon, then lick it clean to make sure nothing was left. 

Oh Terry! A part of her wanted to slap his arm with a playful shake of the head and take his words lightly, like they were on some 50′s sitcom, but she couldn’t make the slightest attempt. He made her blush right through the bone, and again she was aroused, shifting through shades of red like a love meter at a carnival. Claudia never considered herself atrocious or completely hideous, but she wasn’t exactly a beauty queen. The fact that a man like Terry Silver, who could have the likes of Gia Carangi or Elle Macpherson on his arm or in his bed, chose her, drove her insane with an insatiable combination of love and lust. “Suppose we’ll keep the gee at the foot of the bed then...” She mused in a sultry tone, grinning as she pushed herself up closer to his face, her lips just inches from his, initiating a bit of foot play against satin. 

Well hello to new Claudia Macleod...how incredibly delicious...Though she’d been a little coquettish before, he’d half expected this particular comment to elicit a different kind of response. He’d foreseen a soft blush, an anxious smile or her going sweetly numb, and the fact that she’d done the opposite thrilled him desperately. This reaction, as minor as it was, meant he was effectuating the change in her that he deeply desired, and it had just enough power to jumpstart his soul as black as tar, into the day. “Sounds good to me...” He smirked heatedly, slipping his lips over hers, tongue dancing lightly with hers while the edge of his foot ran alongside her ankle. “Could get used to that...” He moaned into a grin, blue eyes set upon her lips as if contemplating another go at tasting her. “Glad you agreed to stay here with me...I don’t know if I could take watching you leave every day knowing I’d have to wait hours to see you again.” He said with a relieved sigh, nodding at her with false elation, and shifting his fingers forward to hold her face in his hands. Having her stay there wasn’t ideal, wasn’t the best decision. It could easily serve complicate things if she suddenly grew smart to his brand of deceit and exploitation, and lord knows he hated complications, but Terry was good at getting out of difficult situations and he just figured he’d play it by ear. Should something troubling arise he’d obviously take care of it, but for now he wasn’t going to worry about anything negative and just focus on sucking her bone dry of her adoration. 

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He wouldn’t be able to wait for her, wait just twenty-four hours till she made it in again? Holy hell, it was like a dream, the dreams she had as a teenager where a crush was so desperate for her that he couldn’t survive, couldn’t breathe and it had her full heart palpitating and screaming simultaneously. The man was spoiling her emotions, her body, her everything and not only was she weaker than weak, but her mind was left blank. It was left stunned, running on empty, and there weren’t enough words in Scots Gaelic or in the English language to describe what she was feeling deep within her soul. “You’d see me in your dreams, maybe?” She asked, gazing up at him with a warm, curious, nymph like grin, her fingers caressing his sides, nearly capsizing in the feel of his muscles. God he was beautiful, beautiful in every way and he belong to her? Damn if this wasn’t heaven she didn’t know what was. 

“Yes, but see that would be torture, and there’s no way that would have been enough...” He lamented, miming a saddened grin, as he played with her hair again, toying with her warped mind just as he did with her darkened locks. Just as she was something to play with, something to pull and prod at, at his discretion, so was her mind. Like Frankenstein did it’s creation, he owned her mind, her heart, her soul and he felt regal, elevated to higher ground, like a king ascending the crown. “But anyway, none of that matters anymore...you’re here now, with me...” He nodded with a sigh of relief, dragging her up to his lips with a gentle fistful of her hair, keeping her from any kind of resistance, not that there would be of course, this was Claudia Macleod after all; the girl trapped under his wing. 

“I don’t have much to go back to...I’m not going anywhere, Terry...” She insisted in a near daze, reeling back from the kiss, every inch of her body going numb just as it had done before. No matter how many times they locked lips, how many times he touched her or even gazed into her eyes, her body managed to react this way and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to control it, even if she wanted to.

“Good cause’ I could never be without you, Beautiful...” He lied with a tender grin, caressing her shoulders and slowly shifting her to an upright position. Terry didn’t need anybody, he was accustomed to being alone, and frankly he kind of liked it that way, but obviously telling her that wouldn’t make the slightest bit of sense and it would only make a mess of things. No, he had to continue fibbing and fabricating every sentiment and every possible sensation, or he’d have a plot on his hands riddled with holes. “I could however stay with you, like this for forever and a day, but we’ve got a busy day ahead...We should really get ready, maybe see about some breakfast...” He urged, drawing that grin into a pursed lips, shifting his fingers from her bare shoulder to her hand.

“Sure, would love that...” She sighed warmly, slipping her hand in his, disoriented completely by the joy in his eyes and not thinking of anything else, until he slithered her up to a standing position. Shit she had nothing to wear right now and hitting the streets of Beverly Hills with a gee and four inch heels...well that would just be plain wrong. “Terry, um...what am I gonna wear now?” She blushed with a snort, shaking with a subtle chill and crossing her arms over her bare chest. 

“Right...um.” He chuckled lightly, rolling his eyes playfully at the situation, pulling the satin sheet from the bed and covering her naked flesh, giving her some modesty. “Let see...let me see what I procure for that beautiful body...” He mused with a grin, turning away from her, completely bare himself, and drifting towards his massive closet.

“Okay, I know it’s gonna be manly, but something comfortable, please...” She laughed with a bite of her lip, anxious about the possible wardrobe choice and containing her raging hormones. God if he was tortured with the thought of her leaving him every night, then she was a dead woman having to look at him walk away like that, without a care for his state. It was bad enough he’d been so gentlemanly, offering the sheet to her cold flesh, now she was drooling like an adolescent. 

“You got it, Beautiful...you got it...” He chuckled back, grinning to himself deviously as he entered the walk-in. He’d find something comfortable alright, something to filter his fantasies with and of course to his liking. Her in his clothing, could there be anything finer?


	37. Chapter 37

An old button down shirt in crisp ivory, a size too small to fit his frame and a pair of linen shorts he were all but once to visit a dumping site off the coast of New Guinea and were now too tight, was the perfect attire for this scenario. Paired with those horrendous silver heels, she was destined to look rather ridiculous, and clinging from his arm she’d make the innocent passerby think she had no fashion sense, and he simply loved the thought of it. It was a distasteful, underhanded thing to do, to turn her into a kind of laughing stock, but like everything else he’d done to her thus far, there was a reason valid only to him. If they mocked her behind her back but loud enough for her to hear, and she started to feel insecure, Terry Silver would be there to fight the fire and whisk the damsel in distress off her feet. Showing that chivalrous side of him, would bring her to her knees, have her begging to be ravished to the point where she was numb to the pain, and that settled really well into his plan. “Come here Beautiful, I found something...” He called out with a near silent, devious chuckle, tossing upon his bare hips, a pair of black Calvin boxer briefs and a simple pair of black Armani slacks. They were going shopping in broad daylight and stopping off for a quick champagne lunch, there was really no need to dress this up. The black slacks, a white tank and a black blazer would do him just fine. Sleek, trim and modest, that was the way to go. 

“W...What ya got there for me, Blue Eyes?” She asked with an anxious giggle and a bite of her lip, meandering into the walk-in, clutching the smooth sheet to her bare chest.

Blue eyes...it was a stupid nickname but hell it was better than Terry Baby and at least he could say he had it common with the likes of Sinatra. It was fitting because he in fact had blue eyes, it conjured an icon and it was tolerable, but that was it and he’d leave it at that. “Here, should have had Milos give them away but, slipped my mind.” He said, handing her the old shirt and shorts with a haphazard shrug of his shoulders. “The combination looks miserable on me, but I think it’ll fit you fine, and don’t worry...they’re comfortable.” He grinned with a twinkling laugh, leaning forward against the closet counter.

This new outfit wasn’t ideal, wasn’t something she’d like to wear on a shopping rendezvous down Rodeo Drive, but holding it up to her body she could at least say that it was normal. A button down shirt, linen shorts slightly faded in color, didn’t scream “Hello world I’m ready for my close up”, but what did she care, it wasn’t that atrocious gee and soon enough she’d have a whole new wardrobe.

“W...well see about that, after the gee I don’t know if I really trust you on comfort, Terence Silver...” She joked with a sardonic lift of her brow, bending into the counter closer to him, her mouth just inches from his. It was incorrigible, but even when the conversation was insignificant, and didn’t require closeness, she couldn’t keep her distance.

“Ouch...that hurts, Beautiful...” He snorted, miming a saddened pout, drawing a finger to the base of her chin and kissing her. “Give me another chance?” He smiled with a tilt of his head against her mouth, nearly thrilled as he felt a subtle tingle in her lips.

“I...I think, Maybe...” She hummed with lips parted, her knees caving in and nearly banging haphazardly into the granite island. Lord how could anyone say no to that? Plump, soft, temperate, his lips made her delirious, and could make her agree to anything. The taste of his mouth, the feel of his lips could convince her that the sky was green in color.  
“I can live with Maybe...” He chuckled loosely, gently tapping his finger over the lips he’d just had the pleasure of savoring. “I think...” Oh this level of sweetness was painful, difficult to do and overdrawn, but what choice did he really have. She was desperately embarrassing, wasting his precious time with this sorry attempt at convincing humor but he couldn’t shun her could he? No he had to be the cutesy boyfriend, grin, bare it and pretend that none of it made him sick to stomach.

“I...I like that Sensei, I like it a lot...” She sighed, giggling softly and wrapping her arms around his neck, intertwining her fingers together upon the taut flesh of his neck.

“And I like this, a lot...l like you, a lot...” He hummed into a sincere smirk, running his hands over her arms, feeling the follicles on her skin nearly standing on end. She was on edge still, despite all the sex, the openness, and the silly flirtation, and where it should have made him tense thinking his work wasn’t complete, it made him ecstatic. Having her sedated and calm was excellent, but he needed her to be a little nervous when he touched her, when he inched up close. Her being a touch anxious when he was near, meant that he was heavy on her mind and in her heart, and that’s what he was striving for above all else. Getting under her skin, having a home in her mind, and leading her to think of him and only him twenty-four hours a day, was the actual point to all of this. “Mmm...wish there was more time in the day...We really should get going, Beautiful...” He mused in a dismayed sigh, another sham of course, while he still caressed her arms. He could stay there, making her melt further into the ground under his feet for hours, there was some truth to that, but there were still many days ahead, weeks even to do it. There was no need to speed things up and have his fill this soon, besides there was still too much to do.

“Wish we could forget about the shopping...” She nagged him in a saddened exhale, lifting her arms from his neck reluctantly. These weren’t words she intended to say, as they were meant to be private, personal thoughts, but then again, what was private anymore in regards to the War Veteran and the whole of this scenario. Terry had seen nearly every part of her exposed; mind, body and soul.

“I know Beautful, I know...pains me too, believe me.” He nodded in assurance, grabbing a hold of her face and shoving her brown locks tenderly up against her soft neck, blue eyes parting over her with such sweet sorrow. “But we gotta look at it this way, you’ll have a shiny new set of clothes and I’ll be right there with you, okay?” He smiled, kissing her again, hands subtly shaking her, waiting for the faithful response. He had no fears or concerns whatsoever as to what the answer would be, because like a soothsayer, he already knew what it was, but still he had to make sure he’d get it.

“Okay...” She replied with a deep shrug and an empty groan, once again tapping into her arsenal of nicknames, as her mouth stumbled into a pleasant grin upon his lips. “Anything you say, Quicksilver...”

“That’s my girl... He nodded with an airy chuckle, taking up his white tank, so delightfully pleased that the tedious back and fourth had come to its fateful end. Really, because he just couldn’t take it anymore. “Now let’s get this on you, got places to go, people to see...” He said, crinkling back a smile and peering through her eyes with a sense of complacency, having her right where he wanted her again.

“Right..” She sighed, pulling the cozy satin sheet off her body, feeling his eyes on her, watching her strip down to nothingness, nearly shuddering from the glance and the chill of the room. It should have been warm, he was making her warm in every capacity by his ever forward, tantalizing stare but even that was no match for the air conditioning. So bizarre that he kept it so cold, it was like a meat locker but at least she had his eyes, they’d fight the less than subtle freeze and my god were they charming. She could barely control herself, could barely stand like the world around her had lost its sense of gravity.  
“Anything else you need, Beautiful, just ask...” He inclined with a wink, lungs a little breathless as he eyed those perky little breasts. They still aroused him, made his manhood burn, but they weren’t all that spectacular. They were ordinary, humble at best, but somehow that was good enough. Of course like most men, bigger was better, bigger was always better, but for the purposes of her being hooked on his arm, they were adequate. He couldn’t risk the wandering eyes of other men, when every inch of her belonged to him. He could fight them off course, with a sharp, possessive stink eye or a wave of his finger should it come to that, but he didn’t really want the trouble.

“A toothbrush maybe...” She snorted, pulling the shorts up to her waist, smirking to herself as she realized her lace panties were left discarded on his bedroom floor. It wasn’t like her to be so careless and risqué, to the point where it made her blush madly, but what did it matter when she knew deep inside, that being naked with Terry was going to be a constant thing. Besides who needed underwear when the love making, the sex was that contagious.  
“Consider it done, Senpai...” He sighed with a toothy grin, giving her the soldier’s salute, thumb to palm, index finger through little digit, smartly aligned, sharp to the hairline, down! Teasing her with respect he didn’t really have for her. “It’ll be waiting for you in the bathroom, on the counter, when you’re ready for it of course...” He smirked with a click of his tongue, catching a glimpse of that smooth mound before it was shuffled away beneath faded linen. Terry was no vulgar pervert, no shameless hound, but he was sure as hell proud, to call that sweet pussy like a fountain of youth, his own.


End file.
